R  O  V  I  N  G  S 


ON 


LAND   AND   SEA. 


BY 


CAPT.  HENRY  E.  DAVENPORT. 


CINCINNATI : 
H.     M.    R  U  L  I  S  0  N, 

141  MAIN  STREET. 

1857. 


INTRODUCTION. 


No  books  whatever  are  more  instructive  and 
entertaining  than  books  of  travels.  They  satisfy 
that  eager  thirst  after  knowledge  so  strong  in  the 
breasts  of  all  persons,  and  furnish  the  mind  with 
matter  for  reflection. 

We  present  the  reader,  in  the  following  pages, 
valuable  facts  and  thrilling  incidents,  interspersed 
with  some  of  the  finest  Tales  in  the  language; 
and  believe  that  there  never  was  brought  together, 
in  so  small  a  compass,  a  more  copious  collection 
of  rational  entertainment  than  will  be  met  with 
in  this  volume. 


s 


COHTEHTS. 


Pagb 

TWO  MILLIOINAIRESj 7 

Banker  and  the  Grocer, 9 

The  Grocer  rises  in  the  Scale, 11 

Hope  and  Consolation, 13 

Better  Prospects .• 1" 

The  Electoral  Birth-Day, 20 

The  Equipage, 26 

The  Yictoiy, 31 

The  First  of  April, 34 

Continued  from  Part  First, 40 

The  Household, ^^ 

Village  Schoolmaster, ^3 

Beginning  of  the  Reformation, 56 

Progress  of  the  Reformation, 5 ' 

The  Colony, 60 

The  New  Dignity', ^2 

The  Highest  Festival, <57 

A  Fortunate  Misfortune, 70 

«M  OWE  YOU  NOTHING,  SIR,"' 75 

The  Teacher 79 

The  Heir, 82 

NOTES  OF  A  JOURNEY  ACROSS  THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA,.. 80 

THE  TWO  PASSPORTS,....  ^ ••    ^7 


CONTENTS. 

AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN  DIEMEIN'S  LAND, HI 

The  Barrel  Tree, 117 

"Western  Australia, 142 

THE  FAIRY  CUP, 151 

THE  WHITE  SWALLOW, 161 

The  Athapascow  Foray, 166 

Matonaza, 172 

The  Esquimaux  Village, 177 

Wanderings  and  Sufferings, 181 

Winter, 185 

The  Lover's  Search, 190 

Strange  Events, 193 

FOWLING  IN  FAROE  AND  SHETLAND, 201 

A  FUQUEER'S  CURSE, 208 

THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA^ 214 

Inhabitants  of  the  Desert, 225 

The  Commerce  of  the  Desert, » 243 

LIFE  IN  AN  INDIAMAN, 264 

THE  DEALER  IN  WISDOM, ' 295 

THE  KEY  OF  THE  STREET, 303 


TIE   TWO    IIILLIONAmES. 


HEN  I  was  a  young  man  completing 
my  studies  at  Jena,  one  of  ray  most 
agreeable  acquaintances  was  old  Forest 
Counsellor  Von  Rodern,  and  some  of 
my  pleasantest  hours  were  spent  in  his 
house.  We  used  to  assemble  once  or 
twice  a  week,  a  tolerably  large  circle, 
consisting  in  part  of  men  like  himself 
in  the  service  of  the  State,  "  angestel- 
tle,"  —  though  when,  and  where,  and 
how,  two  thirds  of  these  served,  I  never 
could  make  out;  nor  how  the  State 
could  want  such  an  army  of  them ;  for 
truly  of  those  "  angesteltle"  in  most  Grerman  States,  their  name  is 
legion,  —  and  partly  of  such  of  the  students  as  were  less  addicted 
to  the  uproarious  merriment  then  and  now  in  fashion  among  the 
Burseken.  Even  some  of  the  "roaring  boys"  would  now  and 
then  like  a  quiet  evening  at  the  Counsellor's,  by  way  of  relief  to 
their  wilder  carousals,  though  somewhat  in  the  proportion  of  Fal- 
staff's  bread  to  his  sack.  The  Counsellor  was  a  kind-hearted, 
cheerful  old  man,  at  peace  with  himself  and  all  the  world,  perhaps 
because  the  world  had  gone  well  with  him,  or,  perhaps,  that  from  a 
natural  felicity  of  temperament,  he  had  gone  well  with  the  world, 
never  raising  his  expectations  too  high  either  of  himself  or  others, 
and,  therefore,  escaping  the  ossifying  and  acidulating  process  so 
actively  at  work  with  those  who  have  tasted  too  often  of  hope  de- 
ceived, whether  with  or  without  any  fault  of  their  own.  He  never 
'Pretended  to  give  entertainments ;  the  refreshments  were  limited  to 

(7) 


8  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

a  cup  of  coflfee,  or  of  the  anomalous  beverage  so  innocently  ac- 
cepted by  our  kinsfolk,  the  Grermans,  under  the  name  of  tea,  and 
concocted  in  the  proportion  of  a  spoonful  of  the  herb  to  a  gallon  of 
water.  Many  of  the  guests  used  to  qualify  the  mixture  with  lemon, 
wine,  or  vanilla,  which  I  wondered  at  till  I  tasted  it  in  its  primitive 
state,  and  then  I  held  all  means  lawful  which  should  make  it  taste 
of  something.  There  was  no  want  of  amusement,  though  we  neither 
declaimed  tragedies,  slandered  our  neighbors,  nor  played  at  cards. 
There  was  difference  enough  of  age,  temper,  condition,  and  charac- 
ter among  us  to  give  variety  to  the  conversation  on  whatever  subject 
it  chanced  to  fall ;  and  when  the  discussion  threatened  to  become 
too  warm,  the  amenity  of  our  host  acted  as  a  kind  of  general  dulci- 
fier  of  all  acerbities,  and  brought  about,  if  not  an  agreement  of 
principle,  an  agreement  to  differ.  One  of  the  most  successful 
means  of  producing  this  desirable  result  was  the  Counsellor's 
reminiscences  of  his  earlier  life.  He  possessed  much  of  the  talents 
**  de  courtier, ^^  so  highly  valued  as  an  accomplishment  of  society 
by  our  neighbors.  Some  of  his  narratives  I  have  thought  worth 
while  transcribing,  though  I  have  small  expectation  of  rendering 
them  as  agreeable  to  a  reader  as  they  were  to  a  hearer. 

The  conversation  fell  one  evening  on  Rousseau's  writings,  and  his 
dwn  character,  —  his  morbid  susceptibility,  —  his  scorn,  whether 
real  or  affected,  of  the  rich  and  great,  —  his  proud  poverty ,^^^and 
the  contradiction  between  his  misanthropy  and  his  zealw^^the 
reformation  of  society. 

Some  defended  the  unhappy  philosopher,  whose  life  was  a  con- 
tinual warfare  with  himself  and  others,  and  blamed  the  friends  who 
had  not  understood  him.  Others  justified  the  friends,  and  asked 
which  of  his  champions  could  honestly  assert  he  could  have  kept  on 
good  terms  with  him  for  a  month.  The  effects  of  opulence  and 
indigence  on  the  minds  of  gifted  and  right-minded  men,  came  inci- 
dentally under  discussion.  What  would  Rousseau  have  been,  had 
he  been  born  to  purple  and  fine  linen  —  to  be  served  instead  of 
serving?  **I  remember  a  story,  or  rather  a  couple  of  stories," 
said  the  Counsellor,  **  which  have  some  reference  to  the  subject  of 
your  dispute.  I  will  not  say  they  will  settle  it,  but  they  may 
furnish  some  further  argument.  Both  are  singular  in  their  way. 
One  was  the  best-executed  practical  joke  I  ever  heard  of.  The 
heroes  of  both  were  friends  of  my  youth,  and  one  of  them  is  still 
<me  of  my  best  and  dearest."  Listen  if  you  like,  —  learn  if  you 
can! 


THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 


THE   BANKER   AND   THE    GROCER. 

Among  my  intimates  at  the  University  of  Inbingen,  Casimir 
Morn  was  the  most  distinguished  by  nature  and  fortune ;  one  had 
given  him  a  handsome  person,  considerable  talents,  and  an  excel- 
lent heart ;  the  other  a  rich  banker  for  a  father,  that  the  value  of 
tho  diamond  might  not  be  impaired  for  want  of  a  fit  setting.  Be- 
fore entering  the  University  he  had  travelled  through  the  greater 
part  of  Germany,  France,  and  Italy.  His  mind,  already  cultivated 
and  enlarged,  preserved  him  from  contamination  by  the  coarser  ex- 
cesses of  the  wilder  part  of  his  fellow-students ;  while  the  succor- 
ing hand  held  out  to  the  more  necessitous,  attested  that  his  temper- 
ance was  the  result  not  of  prudence  only,  but  of  choice. 

Half  a  year  before  he  left  the  University,  I  accompanied  him  in 
the  vacation  to  his  father's  house.  The  elder  Morn  was  banker  to 
the  Court,  and  lived  in  great  splendor  in  the  electoral  city  of 
Cassel,  where  he  was  visited  by  what  are  called  the  first  people  in 
the  city. 

Near  Morn's  house,  or  rather  palace,  stood  an  old,  dilapidated, 
gloomy-looking  house,  the  abode  of  one  Romanus,  a  grocer,  —  a 
miserly  oid  curmudgeon,  who  had  the  reputation  of  possessing  the 
best  l&lled  coffers  and  the  prettiest  daughter  in  the  city.  He  was 
Baid  to  be  a  millionaire ;  yet  h©  continued  to  weigh  out  coffee,  pep- 
per, cheese,  and  treacle,  with  his  own  hand,  —  nay,  if  he  were  dis- 
abled, the  fair  fingers  of  the  fair  Caroline  were  pressed  into  the  ser- 
vice, for  a  shopman  had  never  been  admitted  behind  the  counter  of 
Herr  Romanus. 

Casimir  Mom  and  the  pretty  groceress  had  played  together  as 
neighbors'  children,  and  seemed  by  no  means  inclined  to  drop  the 
acquaintance  now  that  they  had  ceased  to  be  children.  The  banker, 
however,  began  to  make  somewhat  of  a  wry  face  at  the  familiar  tone 
of  the  young  people  towards  each  other.  He  was  aspiring  in  his 
views,  and  thought  of  purchasing  a  patent  of  nobility ;  and  then,  with 
the  magic  Von  before  his  name,  and  his  own  handsome  face  and  figure, 
his  son  might  look  for  a  better  quartering  in  his  escutcheon  than  a 
sugar  loaf  and  Swiss  cheese  parted  per  pale.  The  grocer,  on  the 
other  hand,  might  perhaps  have  held  it  expedient  to  keep  the  flies 
from  buzzing  too  near  hi^  sweets ;  and,  no  doubt,  it  was  with  this 
view  that  he  always  charged  Casimir  treble  the  usual  price,  when- 
ever he  made  the  purchase  of  any  of  the  other's  wares  the  pretence  for 
entering  the  shop.     But  Casimir,  who  was  honestly  and  seriously  in 


10  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

love,  had  no  intention  that  afFaii-s  should  remain  on  this  ambiguous 
footing.  On  the  contrary,  he  gravely  assured  his  father  that  if 
ever  he  brought  home  a  wife  it  must  be  Caroline  Romanus ;  and 
Caroline  assured  her  father  that  no  young  man  was  endurable  to  her 
eyes  saving  and  excepting  Casimir  Morn. ,  The  banker  loved  his 
only  son.  He  had  nothing  personally  to  object  to  the  roses  and  the 
lilies,  forget-me-not  eyes  and  raven  curls  of  Caroline,  and  saw  some- 
thing greatly  to  admire  in  her  father's  milUon.  Finding  his  son 
resolute,  he  was  inclined  to  give  way.  Herr  Romanus  had,  on  his 
side,  nothing  to  say  against  the  banker's  son.  His  father  carried  on 
the  first  business  in  the  electorate ;  and  when,  to  these  consider- 
ations, was  added,  that  the  lovers  had  already  sworn  fidelity  to  all 
eternity  and  beyond,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  marriage  was 
highly  expedient.  Who  would  have  guessed  that  we  were  all 
reckoning  without  our  host  ? 

The  unlooked-for  obstacle  arose  in  the  shape  of  a  grave  proposal 
of  Herr  Romanus,  that  his  future  son-in-law  —  the  handsome, 
graceful  Casimir,  the  darling  of  the  fair,  with  all  his  university 
honors  blushing  thick  upon  him  —  should  forthwith  renounce  the 
flowery  paths  of  literature,  forsake  the  thornier  crown  awaiting  the 
successful  pursuit  of  severer  science,  and,  donning  a  white  apron, 
serve  sugar  and  snuff  for  the  remainder  of  his  days  !  Herr  Roma- 
nus  had  no  faith  in  any  pursuit  above  or  below  a  counter.  Learning 
was  nothing  in  his  eyes ;  "  the  service,"  no  better  than  legalized 
thieving ;  banking,  gambling  according  to  law. 

The  banker  was  furious.  His  son,  to  whom  his  natural  and 
acquired  advantages,  and  his  own  connections  with  the  court,  opened 
the  way  to  the  first  employments  in  the  State,  who  had  already 
been  named  Referendary  to  the  High  Court  of  something  or  other 
—  for  the  first  six  months  without  salary,  certainly,  but  with  the 
positive  assurance  of  speedy  advancement ;  and  li^w  came  this 
ridiculous  old  grocer  with  the  preposterous  demand  that  he  should 
renounce  all  these  splendid  prospects,  (the  patent  nobility  included,) 
and  sell  treacle  and  herrings  at  three  farthings  apiece  to  the  worthy 

burghers  of .     Was  ever  a  lover  reduced  to  such  an  absurd 

dilemma  before?  At  three-and-twenty  it  is  hard  to  say  what 
would  not  be  undertaken  for  a  fair  and  beloved  maiden ;  bat- 
teries might  be  stormed,  wounds  and  death  defied,  a  desert  held  as 
a  paradise,  Satan  himself  dared  to  mortal  combat ;  all  might  be 
borne ;  —  but  to  sink  from  a  minister  of  state  in  expectation  to  a 
seller  of  tea,  coffee,  tobacco,  snuff,  was  worse  than  battery,  desert, 
death,  and  the  duel ! 

It  struck  me  as  somewhat  odd,  that  instead  of  breaking  off  at 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  11 

once  with  the  absurd  old  humorist,  the  proud  banker  should  in 
private  counsel  his  son  to  capitulate.  Caroline,  however,  herself 
opposed  her  father's  whim.  It  was  agreed  that  Casimir  should 
return  to  the  University  for  half  a  year  ;  and,  in  the  mean  time, 
every  engine  should  be  set  to  work  to  soften  the  heart  of  Herr 
Eomanus,  including  tears,  fainting,  and  threats  of  going  into  a  con- 
sumption. 


THE   GROCER   RISES   IN    THE  SCALE THE   BANKER   KICKS   THE   BEAM. 

Caroline  Eomanus  was  a  diligent  correspondent.     Casimir  was 

informed  of  everything  that  happened  in  the  good  city  of , 

except  what  he  most  desired  to  know  —  viz.,  that  Herr  Romanus 
had  changed  his  mind.  But  no ;  the  old  man  was  as  immovable 
as  the  wooden  negro  at  his  own  door.  His  son-in-law  must  he  a 
grocer :  he  had  said  it,  and  he  stuck  to  it.  The  only  consolatory 
part  of  Caroline's  letter  was  the  concluding  paragraph  —  "After 
all,  we  can  wait  a  little ;  I  am  only  sixteen,  and  you  three-and- 
twenty." 

Four  months  had  thus  passed  away,  when  one  morning  Casimir 
burst  into  my  room,  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand  and  consterna- 
tion in  his  coimtenance.  It  was  from  the  broker  Morn,  and  con- 
tained this  laconic  and  astounding  information  : — "  I  am  a  bank- 
rupt and  fugitive :  I  must  leave directly.     I  am  going  to 

England,  and  thence  to  the  West  Indies.  The  ten  thousand 
florins^  secured  to  you  by  the  enclosed  paper,  you  will  receive  on 
g,pplication.  It  is  all  I  have  been  able  to  save  for  you  from  the 
wreck." 

Yery  naturally-such  an  unexpected  blow  of  fate  had  a  tendency 
to  lengthen  the  visage  even  of  a  lover  of  three-and-twenty.  The 
sum  transmitted  was  not  a  third  part  of  his  mother's  fortune  which 
had  been  secured  to  Casimir.  I  attempted  some  words  of  consola- 
tion. He  made  a  sign  to  me  to  be  silent,  and  passing  his  hand 
rapidly  over  his  brow  —  "  Do  not  mistake  me,"  said  he  faltering  ; 
"  it  is  not  the  poverty  I  feel,  but  the  disgrace.  And  do  not  at- 
tempt to  console  me  for  either  :  for  one  there  is  no  consolation,  and 
/  for  the  other  no  need  of  it.  I  should  despise  myself  if  the  mere 
loss  of  wealth  could  sadden  the  future  to  me.  Help  me  to  divert 
my  thoughts  for  to-day,  if  you  can ;  to-morrow  I  shall  not  need 
your  help." 

Casimir  returned  to .     His   father's  splendid  house,  with 


12  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 


all  belonging  to  it,  had  been  already  sold.  The  whole  city  cried 
upon  the  runaway  banker,  and  pitied  the  son,  except  the  old  grocer. 
He  "had  lost  eight  thousand  dollars  by  Morn's  bankruptcy.  At 
first,  he  had  comforted  himself  with  the  hope  that  Casimir  would 
be  able  to  make  it  up  to  him  out  of  his  mother's  fortune ;  but  when 
the  young  man  frankly  confessed  that  the  same  cause  had  deprived 
him  of  the  greater  part  of  his  fortune,  the  old  man  laughed  derid- 
ingly.  "  Whistle  me  another  tune  from  that,  young  man,"  said  he, 
twirling  his  queer-looking  wig  round  and  round  upon  his  head,  as 
he  was  wont  on  similar  occasions.  "  Your  father,  Herr  Casimir,  is  a 
clever  fellow  !  He  "would  make  a  capital  finance  minister !  What 
would  you  wager,  now,  that  he  has  brought  his  sheep  to  dry  land  in 
time  ? "  and  here  Romanus  dropped  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand 
into  the  hollow  of  his  left,  with  a  significant  look,  as  if  counting 
money.  "  How  long  is  it  to  be  before  he  makes  his  appearance 
amongst  us  again  as  a  rich  man  ? " 

Casimir  colored  deeply.  "  His  father,"  he  said,  "  had  been  un- 
fortunate—  thoughtless,  perhaps  —  but  he  was  no  deliberate  de- 
ceiver." 

When  Romanus  saw  that  Casimir  was  really  unable  to  pay  the 
eight  thousand  dollars,  he  demanded,  without  ceremony,  all  he  had 
in  part  payment  at  least. 

"  How,  then,  am  I  to  live  ?  "  asked  the  young  man.  "  As  yet  I 
receive  no  salary  from  my  appointment." 

"  My  heavens ! "  whined  the  miser,  "  you  are  a  learned  man, 
Herr  Casimir.  You  may  be  secretary  to  somebody ;  but  what  is  to 
become  of  me  ?  Oh  !  I  am  a  poor,  ruined  old  man,  driven  out  of 
house  and  home.  If  I  am  to  lose  all  this  monstrous  sum,  I  and  my 
poor  child  must  beg  from  door  to  door." 

"Indeed,  are  you  really  poor?"  cried. Morn.  "  No,  you  shall 
not  beg.  Take  my  little  capital  into  your  trade,  and  give  me 
Caroline's  hand.  Make  of  me  what  you  will.  Industry  and  econ- 
omy will  soon  make  up  for  the  past.  We  shall  be  the  happiest 
people  in  the  world." 

Casimir  said  this  with  so  much  warmth  and  evident  sincerity, 
that  the  old  grocer  was,  to  use  a  homely  phrase,  fairly  dumb-found- 
ered. 

"  What,"  said  he  at  length,  in  his  harshest  tone,  "  is  it  a  matter 
of  rejoicing  that  your  honorable  papa  then  has  cheated  me  out  of 
my  whole  property  ?  And,  to  reward  such  honest  dealing,  I  shall 
give  you  my  daughter,  shall  I  ?  Your  humble  servant !  If  your 
worthy  father  has  made  me  a  beggar,  I  will  hold  no  beggar's  wed- 
iing  in  mj  house,  I  promise  you.     Be  so  good  as  to  take  vourself 


THE    TWO    .MILLIONAIRES.  1 

off,  will  you  ?  And,  if  I  may  be  so  bold  as  to  ask  a  favor,  I  would 
beg  that  you  never  darken  my  doors  again.  I  wash  my  hands  of 
you.  I  have  not  brought  up  my  girl  to  fling  her  into  the  arms  of 
the  first  fellow  without  a  penny  in  his  pocket  that  has  the  impu- 
dence to  ask  her." 

And  this  was  the  result  of  poor  Casimir's  interview  with  Herr 
Romanus. 


HOPE   AND    CONSOLATION. 

Whichever  way  the  unfortunate  young  man  turned,  he  heard  ex- 
ecrations on  his  father's  name.  Those  who,  during  the  banker's 
prosperity,  had  been  his  basest  flatterers,  now  distinguished  them- 
selves by  the  bitterness  and  violence  of  their  reproaches.  In  con- 
sequence, the  news  of  his  father's  death,  which  reached  Casimir  a 
few  months  after,  brought  with  it  a  kind  of  melancholy  consolation, 
notwithstanding  his  unfeigned  sorrow.  The  unfortunate  banker 
died  at  Antwerp  of  inflammation  of  the  lungs,  which  had  been 
neglected  probably  in  the  overwhelming  griefs  and  vexations  conse- 
quent on  his  bankruptcy.     The  death  of  Morn  at  last  put  an  end 

to  the  storm  of  hostility,  and  the  worthy  people  of even  found 

some  expressions  of  pity  for  the  son  at  last. 

Casimir's  courage  rose  again,  after  the  first  stunning  efiects  of  the 
blow,  with  that  elastic  vigor  natural  to  his  age.  When  the  storm 
had  somewhat  blown  over,  he  addressed  himself  for  employment  to 
some  former  friends  of  his  family,  and  met  with  a  civil  reception 
from  all.  His  appointment  as  Referendary  to  the  Electoral 
Chamber  was  confirmed. 

"  You  must  study  at  the  law,  Roman  and  financial,"  said  the 
minister,  "  and  I  will  think  of  you  in  time.  Of  course,  as  youngest 
in  the  office,  you  must  work  without  salary.  But,  in  a  year  or 
two,  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  do  something  for  you.  You  are 
still  very  young  ;  one  cannot  expect  much  at  four-and-twenty !  " 

Morn  was  well  contented  for  the  time.  He  fixed  himself  in  a 
respectable  citizen's  house,  right  opposite  the  once  splendid  dwelling 
of  his  family  —  less  haunted  by  .the  memory  of  former  magnificence 
tlian  allured  by  the  vision  of  Caroline's  blue  eyes  and  rose-tinted 
cheek ;  for,  although  the  old  chandler  had  prohibited  him  from 
crossing  his  threshold,  he  could  not  prevent  eyes  from  visiting  as 
they  listed. 

Casimir's  sitting-room  and  that  used  by  Caroline  Romanus  were, 


14  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

by  good  fortune,  exactly  opposite,  and,  wlien  the  sun  shone,  not  a 
corner  of  either  was  invisible  to  the  other.  Each  knew  when 
the  other  came  in  or  went  out,  how  they  were  employed,  when  they 
were  glad,  when  they  were  sorry.  After  the  fashion  of  maidens  of 
her  class  in  Germany,  Caroline's  constant  seat,  when  not  employed 
in  household  duties,  was  perched  up  at  the  window ;  so  there  was 
nothing  very  remarkable  in  her  preferring  her  knitting  needles  to 
all  other  employment.  Never,  even  among  her  country-women, 
was  there  such  an  indefatigable  knitter. 

Within  a  year's  time  the  language  of  looks  and  signs  had  been 
brought  to  such  perfection  that  all  they  thought,  wished,  hoped,  or 
feared,  was  mutually  understood,  without  exchanging  a  word. 

Cheered  by  the  glad  eye  and  radiant  smile  of  the  fair  and  faith.- 
ful  Caroline,  young  Morn  labored  with  unwearied  diligence,  not 
only  in  his  own  peculiar  vocation,  but  was  always  ready  to  assist  the 
superiors  in  office,  who,  having  easier  employment  and  more  pay, 
found,  of  course,  less  leisure,  with  their  accounts,  memorials, 
minutes,  &c.  &c.  He  stood,  therefore,  high  in  the  good  graces  of 
his  colleagues,  every  one  eidogized  his  talents  and  acquirements, 
asked  his  advice,  and  accepted  his  services ;  and,  in  return,  no  one 
in  the  city  received  more  invitations  to  balls,  soirees,  and  picnics. 

The  fathers  praised  his  ready  head  and  ready  hand,  the  daughters 
declared  that  he  sang  admirably,  waltzed  divinely,  and  declaimed 
like  an  angel,  in  their  private  theatricals ;  but,  alas  !  in  spite  of  this 
universal  favor,  Casimir  Morn  remained,  at  six-and-twenty,  the 
generally-esteemed  but  unpaid  junior  Referendary  of  the  Electoral 
Chamber  of . 

*'  Never  mind,"  was  Caroline's  unfailing  topic  of  consolation ; 
"you  are  hut  six-and-twenty,  and  I  am  just  nineteen."  The  lovely 
Caroline  was  now  in  the  full  bloom,  and  beyond  dispute  the  fairest 
maiden  in  the  city.  The  fame  of  her  beauty  and  her  probable 
wealth  even  reached  the  court.  Princes  and  Counts,  with  unim- 
peachable quarterings,  condescended  to  press  with  their  noble  feet 
the  very  dirty  pavement  before  the  low,  dark,  strong-flavored  shop 
of  grocer  Romanus ;  and,  what  was  more,  to  shed  the  light  of  their 
countenance  on  the  cunning,  miserly,  old  curmudgeon  himself.  A 
beauty  like  Caroline,  and  the  heiress  of  a  million,  was  well  worth 

the  sacrifice  of  all  the  genealogies,  orders  and  diplomas  in . 

Yet,  neither  counts,  barons,  Imights,  state,  war,  court,  chamber, 
justice,  (civil  and  criminal,)  finance,  police,  church,  or  public  instruc- 
tion, privy  or  public  counsellor,  could  touch  the  heart  of  the  old 
grocer,  or  his  charming  heiress.  On  the  one  hand,  Herr  Eomanus 
adhered  with  the  obstinacy  of  a  whole  herd  of  mules  to  his  reeolu* 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIERS.  15 

tion  of  finding  or  making  hi»  future  son-in-law  a  grocer  ;  and,  on  the 
other,  the  damsel  herself  was  as  indifferent  to  the  galaxy  of  stars 
in  the  court  firmament  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  farthing  rush- 
lights in  her  papa's  shop. 

All  her  pretty  coquetries,  her  winning  glances,  and  gracious 
smiles  —  for  which  counts  and  counsellors  looked  and  sighed  in 
vain  —  were  lavished,  unasked  for  and  by  the  dozen,  on  the  honor- 
ary junior  Referendary  of  the  Electoral  Chamber. 

This  ought  to  have  been  consolation  enough ;  but,  when  two  more 
years  had  passed  over  his  head,  without  bringing  any  alteration  in 
his  prospects,  Casimir's  brow  began  to  cloud  sometimes,  and  other 
sighs  than  those  of  love  to  steal  from  his  bosom.  Old  Romanus 
was  as  immovable  as  a  rock  to  lovers'  entreaties,  and  the  minister 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  him  altogether.  Morn  was  an  admirable 
laborer  in  the  official  vineyard,  a  man  of  the  strictest  honor,  of  the 
clearest  head  —  these  were  facts  that  no  one  ventured  to  gainsay  — 
and  yet,  when  a  place  betame  vacant,  no  one  thought  any  more  of 
the  untainted  honor,  the  clear  head,  and  gratuitous  labors  of  the 
impaid  Referendary,  Casimir  Morn,  than  if  there  had  been  no  such 
merits  in  existence,  or  no  need  of  them  in  the  electoral  city  of 

.     People  had  their  sons,  or  their  nephews,  or  their  cousins 

thirty  times  removed,  to  provide  for  ;  young  men,  who  had  neither 
served  half  so  long  nor  deserved  half  so  well,  were  continually  put 
over  his  head  ;  and  if  he  made  any  complaint,  he  was  answered  by 
a  silent  shrug,  or  a  head-shaking  at  the  nepotism  of  some  brother 
official,  or  grave  exclamations  at  the  ingratitude  of  great  men, 
sweetened,  perhaps,  by  a  vague  assurance  that  although  the  omission 
of  his  name  had  been  unavoidable  this  time,  another  he  might  de- 
pend, &c.  &c. 

No  sooner,  however,  was  the  complainant's  back  turned  than  the 
complainee  was  amazed  at  the  assurance  with  which  such  claims 
were  advanced,  as  if  IMr.  Casimir  Morn  really  looked  on  himself  as 
their  equal,  as  if  his  pretensions  admitted  of  any  comparison  with 
those  of  Von  this,  and  Von  the  other  !  If  people  of  that  class  were 
wanted  they  would  be  called  for,  and  so  forth.  With  all  his  clear- 
headedness. Morn  was  of  those  thoroughly  good-hearted  people  who 
forgive  as  easily  as  they  are  injured.  In  the  blind-man's  buff  game 
of  fortune,  somehow  they  are  always  buff —  are  paid  for  real  hard 
service  by  a  friendly  pressure  of  the  hand  or  a  cordial  word  —  and 
run  through  fire  and  water  for  their  friends,  to  get  nothing  but  the 
singeing  and  sousing  for  their  pains.  They  cannot  comprehend  such 
a  thing  as  smiling  treachery ;  and  the  astonishing  readiness  with 
which  some  will  be  guilty  of  the  basest  compliances,  for  the  meanest 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 


objects,  is  absolutely  incredible  to  tbem.  Morn  looked  willingly  on 
the  bright  side  of  human  life,  and  would  gladly  have  ignored  the 
existence  of  the  shadow  altogether.  The  belief  in  the  moral  purity 
of  his  fellow-men  was  a  positive  necessity  for  him. 

He  bore  his  lot,  therefore,  with  patience,  if  not  with  pleasure  — 
at  least  so  he  said  to  himself,  "  his  merit  was  acknowledged  and 
loved."  That  it  should  be  so  often  and  so  oddly  passed  over  in  the 
distribution  of  the  loaves  and  fishes  of  office,  did  certainly  appear  to 
him  unjust ;  yet  in  his  own  heart  he  doubted  whether,  after  all,  the 
fault  might  not  be  his  own.  He  thought  his  services  ought  to  speak 
for  him  instead  of  his  lips;  he  was  not  fond  of  showing  himself  in  a 
great  man's  antechamber,  which,  indeed,  he  seldom  or  never  entered, 
unless  business  called  him  there  ;  courteous  and  obliging  by  nature 
and  habit,  he  was  yet  more  fi-ank  in  the  exposition  of  his  opinions 
than  beseemed  an  expectant ;  and,  more  than  all,  he  had  an  honor- 
able reserve  in  speaking  of  his  circumstances  ;  and  if  he  allowed  his 
acquaintance  to  think  him,  or  to  pretend  they  thought  him,  much 
richer  than  he  was,  the  weakness  had  its  origin  in  a  pardonable  if 
not  a  praiseworthy  motive.  Perhaps  others  were  esteemed  more  in 
need  of  advancement  than  himself,  and  therefore  he  was  passed 
over.     Poor  Morn ! 

He  still  lived  opposite  Romanus'  house,  and  the  blue  heaven  of 
Caroline's  eyes  still  rained  on  him  light  and  life.  One  morning  in 
March  —  it  was  his  birthday  —  and  she  made  her  appearance  early 
at  the  window,  wearing  in  her  bosom  the  nosegay  of  snow-drops,  of 
which  she  made  a  yearly  imaginary  offering  to  her  lover.  To-day 
you  are  eight-and-twenty,  and  I  twenty,  she  telegraphed  —  the 
pretty  fingers  lingered  in  tracing  the  last  word.  Twenty  is  not  a 
desperate  age,  certainly ;  but  yet,  when  a  girl  has  not  only  made  up 
her  mind  for  the  last  four  years  to  be  married,  but  actually  fixed  on 
the  man,  to  turn  her  back  upon  the  "  teens  "  is  a  step  in  a  maiden's 
life,  particularly  when  we  consider  that  anpther  twenty  might  pass 
before  Kramer  Romanus  would  alter  his  mind.  In  the  mean  time, 
Caroline's  beauty  was  at  its  height ;  by  a  necessary  deduction,  the 
next  step  must  be  downward ;  and  "  I  am  growing  an  old  bachelor,' 
sighed  Casimir.  He  turned  from  the  window,  and  sat  down  on  the 
sofa  with  his  back  to  the  light. 

BETTER   PROSPECTS. 

Some  one  knocked  at  the  door.  It  was  a  servant  of  Privy 
Counsellor  Count  Von  Bitterblolt.  &c.  &c.  &c.,  who  brought  a 
gracious  intimation  that  his  lord  wished  to  say  a  few  words  in  private 
to  Referendary  Casimir  Morn.      *  A  few  words  in  private  "  froaj 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  17 

Count  Von  Bitterblolt,  tlie  confidential  minister  of  his  Highness  the 
Elector,  was  no  small  honor.  Casimir  flew  to  him  on  the  wings  of 
curiosity  and  expectation.  He  was  received  by  the  favorite  with 
extraordinary  graciousness.  The  Count  had  the  gift  of  appearing 
excessively  amiable  and  condescending  towards  his  inferiors  when  he 
wanted  to  gain  a  point  by  them,  and  as  outrageously  insolent  and 
arrogant  when  his  point  was  gained  ;  he  not  only,  like  another  great 
man,  his  countryman,  threw  away  the  peel  when  he  had  sucked  the 
orange,  but  kicked  it  into  the  gutter. 

"  It  is  his  Highness'  wish,  my  dear  you»g  friend,"  began  Count 
Von  Bitterblolt,  "  that  his  newly-acquired  territory  should  as  much 
as  possible  be  principally  assimilated  to  the  old.  In  pursuance  of 
this  object,  there  must  be  a  new  survey  made  of  the  domain,  with 
all  its  regalities,  rights  and  privileges,  and  a  certain  conformity  of 
administration  introduced,  and  projects  for  a  new  system  of  taxation, 
suitable  to  the  nature  of  the  acquired  lands,  and  the  exigencies  of 
the  State,  be  drawn  up.  His  Highness  has  already  appointed  an 
extraordinary  commission.  The  aflair,  my  dear  Mr.  Morn,  is  a  del- 
icate and  a  dijficult  one.  The  two  Chamber  Counsellors  at  the 
head  of  it  are  men  advanced  in  life.  They  will  never  bring  the 
business  to  an  end.  I  have  said  as  much  to  his  Highness.  But 
they  are  old  and  faithful  servants  to  the  State,  and  cannot  be  passed 
over;  though,  between  ourselves,  my  dear  young  friend,"  in  a 
charming  tone  of  Confidence  added  the  Count,  "  two  more  unfit  men 
could  scarcely  be  found.  To  give  perhaps  a  little  more  vivacity  to 
their  proceedings,  it  has  also  pleased  his  Highness  to  join  my  son  to 
the  commission,  though,  I  give  you  my  honor,  I  really  opposed  the 
appointment.  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  do  so.  But  princes,  you 
know,  my  dear  sir,  do  not  love  contradiction,  and  our  excellent 
Elector  is  no  exception.  Unfortunately,  my  son's  health  is  exceed- 
ingly delicate.  I  foresee  the  business  will  be  horribly  spun  out,  and 
that  must  not  be.  I  have,  therefore,  thought  of  associating  you,  my 
dear  Referendary,  as  secretary  to  the  commission.  Your  expenses, 
of  course,  will  be  paid ;  and  if  my  son,  with  your  assistance,  accom- 
plishes his  task,  as  I  have  no  doubt  he  will,  to  the  satisfaction  of  his 
Highness,  it  will  create  a  most  admirable  opportunity  for  bringing 
your  uncommon  merit  to  the  observation  of  his  Highness.  I  have 
already  proposed  to  myself  the  pleasure  of  conferring  on  you  the 
first  vacant  office  in  the  newly-acquired  domain." 

Morn,  as  may  well  be  supposed,  readily  closed  with  the  ofier,  the 

motives  of  which  he  perceived  easily  enough.     The  two   elderly 

gentlemen  were  a  couple  of  superannuated  old  blockheads,  only 

thrust  in  to  give  a  color  to  the  appointment  of  the  young  Vcm 

2 


18  THE,  TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

Bitterblolt,  a  raw  youth  not  long  from  the  University,  totally  igoo* 
rant  of  that  or  any  other  business.  From  these  premises  might  be 
deducted  the  very  obvious  conclusion,  that  the  whole  weight  of  the 
employment  must  fall  on  the  shoulders  of  Mr.  Secretary  Morn. 
No  matter,  he  was  not  afraid  of  labor  ;  no  doubt  the  minister  must 
feel  the  weight  of  his  services,  and  would  reward  them  accordingly ! 
The  exceeding  liberality  of  the  Count,  in  paying  his  expenses,  was 
not  at  present  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him.  As  he  had  served 
the  State  for  four  3"ears  without  fee  or  reward,  the  interest  of  his 
little  capital  had  been  insufficient  even  for  his  moderate  expenses. 
Every  year  saw  consequently  a  portion  of  the  capital  itself  sunk, 
which  again  diminished  the  interest,  which  tended  further  to  the 
impoverishment  of  IMr.  Casimir  Morn. 

He  took  a  tender  leave  of  his  Caroline,  and  left ,  with  the 

noble  commissioners,  full  of  the  most  animating  hopes.  It  will  be 
taken  for  granted  that  he  had  previously  arranged  a  plan  of  corre- 
spondence with  his  beloved ;  and  even  this  was  not  so  simple  a  matter 
as  it  may  at  first  appear,  since  the  cunning  old  millionaire,  by  way 
of  teaching  his  daughter  the  right  value  of  money,  had  hit  upon  the 
admirable  plan  of  never  giving  her  a  farthing ;  consequently,  the 
cost  of  the  correspondence  fell  wholly  upon  Morn.  Casimir's  life  in 
the  capital  of  the  new  province  was  pretty  much  what  it  had  been 
at  the  Electoral.  He  labored  hard  in  his  vocation,  made  few  ac- 
quaintances, that  he  might  avoid  useless  expense,  refreshed  himself 
by  a  walk  in  the  evening,  and  finished  the  day  by  reading  a  letter 
from  or  writing  one  to  his  second  self. 

An  accidental  circumstance  procured  him  another  amusement 
shortly  after.  The  rooms  next  to  his  in  the  hotel  where  he  had 
taken  up  his  abode  were  occupied  by  a  foreigner,  whom  he  usually 
encountered  at  the  table  d'hote  where  he  never  spoke ;  and,  after 
retiring  for  the  night,  Casimir  used  to  hear  him  walking  up  and 
down  his  bed-chamber  for  hours  together.  The  stranger  was  a  pale, 
elegant  young  man,  apparently  about  Morn's  own  age,  was  attended 
by  two  servants,  and  had  lived  nearly  three  weeks  in  the  town, 
where,  however,  he  seemed  neither  to  know  nor  wish  to  know  a 
single  individual.  Pie  bore  the  name  of  Devereux  —  an  English- 
man, therefore,  Morn  concluded ;  and,  one  day,  addressing  him  in 
his  native  language,  partly  out  of  a  good  desire  to  enliven  the 
melancholy  looking  stranger,  and  partly  because  he  was  glad  of  an 
opjDortunity  to  practise  his  English. 

The  Briton  looked  at  him  with  surprise  and  some  appearance  of 
pleasure,  and  answered  courteously  but  briefly,  and  then  fell  back 
into  his  former  silence.     During  the  dinner,  Casimir  observed  the 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  19 

stranger  casting  penetrating  glances  towards  him,  and,  when  it  was 
over,  he  came  suddenly  up  to  him,  saying,  "  Will  you  allow  me  to 
speak  with  you  a  moment  alone  ?  " 

Casimir  took  him  immediately  into  his  own  room. 

"  I  am  about  to  make  a  very  odd  request  to  a  stranger,"  began 
the  Englishman,  abruptly ;  "  but  it  will  not  be  mended  by  circum- 
locution. A  letter  of  credit  I  expected  to  find  here  has  been  de- 
layed by  some  strange  accident.  I  have  a  pressing  necessity  to  set 
out  immediately  for  Amsterdam,  and  I  am  without  money.  Can 
you,  or  will  you,  lend  me  a  hundred  louis  d'ors  ?  On  my  arrival  at 
Amsterdam,  you  shall  receive  it  again  directly,  with  what  interest 
you  please." 

Casimir  was  taken  somewhat  by  surprise.  He  expressed  none, 
however ;  but,  after  a  short  pause,  said,  "  I  have  not  so  much 
about  me  ;  but  I  could  procure  it  within  fourteen  days." 

"  You  will  oblige  me  more  than  I  can  express ;  you  save  me  from 
a  most  unpleasant  embarrassment,"  returned  the  Englishman,  who 
shook  Morn  heartily  by  the  hand,  and  left  him.  The  whole  affair 
had  scarcely  occupied  five  minutes.  When  he  was  alone,  Casimir 
began  to  feel  he  had  been  a  little  over-hasty  in  his  promise.  A 
hundred  louis  d'ors  were  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  fourth  part 
of  his  whole  property.  He  shook  his  head.  The  Englishman's  face 
announced  honesty ;  he  looked  like  anything  but  an  adventurer ; 
still,  a  hundred  louis  were  the  fourth  part  of  his  capital,  and  to  put 
it  at  once  in  the  power  of  a  total  stranger,  on  the  strength  of  a 
pleasing  countenance,  was  rather  a  thoughtless  proceeding.  "  Well," 
was  the  conclusion  of  Morn's  soliloquy,  "  well,  my  opinion  is  that  he 
will  not  deceive  me  ;  and  if  he  should  ?  —  well,  it  will  be  the  first 
time  in  my  life,  and  the  last." 

Apparently  this  was  not  the  only  grief  the  stranger  had  on  his 
mind ;  for,  notwithstanding  the  promised  assistance,  Morn  heard 
him  at  night  again  pacing  his  chamber  in  the  same  unquiet  manner, 
and  uttering  heavy  sighs,  almost  groans. 

"  The  man  is  very  unhappy ;  he  must  be  worse  off  than  I  am," 
thought  Morn.  "  A  mere  money  embarrassment  can  never  cause 
such  heavy  sorrow.     He  shall  have  the  louis,  however." 

The  next  day  Devereux  appeared  at '  table  as  usual,  his  counte- 
nance overshadowed  with  a  yet  deeper  melancholy,  and  he  was  silent 
as  before.  Morn,  who  felt  unaccountably  attached  to  him  endeav- 
ored, by  everything  in  his  power,  to  enliven  him.  When  he  could 
be  induced  to  talk,  Devereux  seemed  quite  a  different  person  —  his 
features  brightened,  his  whole  deportment  became  attractive  in  no 
common  degree.     The  two  young  men  went  out  after  dinner  to  walk 


20  THE  TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

together,  and  Morn  was  still  more  charmed  with  his  new  aequaint- 
ince.  Devereux  was  more  than  an  agreeable  companion  ;  his  men- 
tal powers,  considerable  in  themselves,  had  received  every  advantage 
from  cultivation.  The  stores  of  ancient  and  modern  literature  were 
familiar  to  both,  and  formed,  with  the  fate  and  laws  of  nations,  their 
chief  topics  of  discourse.  When  Casimir  had  finished  his  day's  task, 
Devereux  came  constantly  to  his  room,  and  remained,  till  deep  of 
the  night,  in  conversation  with  him.  Of  the  promised  loan  not  a 
syllable  was  said  on  either  side.  Morn  spoke  openly  of  himself  on 
his  past  and  present  hopes  and  prospects.  His  companion  was  less 
communicative ;  but  he  learnt  so  much,  in  return,  —  that  Devereux 
had  left  his  native  land  in  consequence  of  a  tragical  occurrence, 
deeply  afiecting  his  future  life,  and  was  travelling  in  the  hope  of 
dissipating  a  heavy  sorrow ! 

The  intercourse  of  the  two  young  men  taught  Morn,  for  the  first 
time,  the  value  of  a  friend.  His  letters  to  the  fair  Romanus  were 
almost  as  full  of  praises  of  his  Devereux  as  of  love  for  herself.  His 
pretty  mistress  was  half  jealous  of  the  agreeable  stranger.  In  the 
mean  time.  Morn's  louis  d'ors  came  to  hand,  and  were  immediately 
carried  by  him  into  Devereux's  room.  The  latter  gave  him,  in  re- 
turn, a  written  acknowledgment  of  the  obligation,  and  the  address 
of  his  family  in  England. 

"  If  I  die  before  I  can  repay  you,"  said  he,  "  that  is,  within  a 
few  weeks,  forward  the  paper,  with  this  letter,  directly." 

He  put  a  sealed  letter  in  Morn's  hands  as  he  spake,  and  then 
turned  the  conversation  to  some  indifferent  subject.  They  parted 
shortly  after,  almost  in  silence,  with  a  fervent  pressure  of  the  hand, 
carrying  with  them  remembrances  and  feelings  beneficial  alike  to 
both. 


THE   ELECTORAL   BIRTH-DAY. 

The  loss  of  Devereux's  society  was  more  felt  by  Morn  than  he 
thought  possible  after  so  short  an  acquaintance.  He  had  parted 
with  a  companion  whom  he  really  loved  —  a  friend,  whose  views  and 
sentiments  harmonized  so  admirably  with  his  own,  that  in  losing 
him  he  seemed  to  lose  the  better  half  of  himself.  His  official  labors 
became  more  than  ever  a  necessity  to  him ;  they  served  to  divert 
and  calm  his  thoughts.  Devereux  and  (Caroline  filled  his  heart 
entirely.     "  I  am  really  a  most  fortunate  man,"  cried  he,  in  his 


THE  TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  21 


enthusiasm  of  love  and  friendship.  "  I  love,  and  am  loved  by,  two 
of  the  noblest  beings  in  the  world." 

After  the  lapse  of  seven  busy  months,  the  report  of  Cabinet  and 
Privy  Counsellor,  Von  Bitterblolt,  was  ended,  and  the  Commission- 
ei'S  returned  to  the  electoral  residence.  His  Highness,  the  Elector, 
was  so  well  content  with  the  work  that  he  bestowed  Heaven  knows 
what  order  on  the  young  Count  Heinrich  Yon  Bitterblolt,  and  made 
an  addition  to  the  pension  of  the  two  reverend  seniors  who  had 
served  as  ballast  to  the  official  vessel.  Secretary  Morn  was  the 
only  person  forgotten ;  he  had  done  nothing  for  a  recompense,  but 
deserved  it.  The  Counts  of  Bitterblolt,  indeed,  father  and  son, 
were  profuse  in  expressions  of  gratitude,  and,  to  prove  it,  invited 
him  to  dinner.  Fraulein  Von  Bitterblolt  also  found  the  Secretary 
exceedingly  agreeable ;  if  he  had  been  of  noble,  instead  of  plebeian 
origin,  he  might,  perhaps,  have  found  the  daughter  more  grateful 
than  the  father.  So  soon,  however,  as  the  Cabinet  Counsellor  re- 
marked the  interest  the  young  lady  took  in  the  handsome  Secretary, 
he  held  it  advisable  to  invite  him  seldomer,  and  gradually  not  at  all. 
Morn  found  it  necessary  to  put  the  minister  modestly  in  mind  of  his 
promise  of  an  appointment  in  the  newly  acquired  province ;  where- 
upon his  Excellency  clapped  him  on  the  shoulder  in  the  most 
friendly  manner  in  the  world,  and  assured  him  he  would  take  care 
of  him. 

"  I  have  spoken  of  your  talents  and  services  more  than  once  to 
his  Highness,"  said  he.  "Wait  till  the  birthday,  when  the  greatest 
number  of  advancements  are  made ;  I  make  no  doubt  your  name 
will  stand  first  on  the  list." 

How  could  Morn  feel  less  than  satisfied  ?  He  looked  upon  his 
patent  as  good  as  made  out,  particularly  when  the  minister  proceeded 
to  ask  him  what  kind  of  place  would  be  most  agreeable  to  him.  He 
thought  of  Caroline,  and  replied  with  great  frankness  that  he  would 
certainly  prefer  remaining  in  the  residence.  "  It  shall  be  thought 
further  of,"  said  his  Excellency.  "I  should  gladly  have  seen  a 
man  like  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Morn,  in  one  of  the  first  posts  in  the 
new  province ;  but,  if  you  prefer  remaining  with  us,  I  am  afraid  it 
will  be  rather  more  difficult  to  provide  for  you  suitably  in  the  capi- 
tal. However,  we  shall  see.  The  old  Chamber  Counsellor,  Bal- 
der, might,  indeed,  be  pensioned  off.     Would  that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  I  would  not  wish  for  more,"  returned  Morn,  his  face  glowing 
with  pleasure. 

"  Excellent,"  said  the  minister,  and  dismissed  him  with  the  best 
grace  in  the  world. 

Gilded  by  such  hopes,  the  winter  glided  away      Caroline  was  aa 


22  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

faithful  and  fair  as  ever ;  and  if  ever  mistrust  found  entrance  in 
Casimir's  heart,  a  look  or  smile  fr6m  the  opposite  window  made  it 
summer  again.  At  length  came  March,  the  long-looked-for  month 
that  had  given  his  Highness,  the  Elector,  to  an  admiring  world. 
The  list  of  promotions  was  published ;  patents  for  new  ap|X)intnients 
made  out ;  the  streets  were  full  of  people  riding  and  driving  about 
to  congratulate  or  be  congratulated.  IMorn  made  a  point  of  remain- 
ing at  home,  that  he  might  not  miss  the  messenger  from  the  Eleo- 
toral  Chancery.  The  customary  "compliment'"  for  the  bearer  of 
the  princely  graces  lay  wrapt  in  paper  ready  on  the  table.  Noon, 
evening ;  still  no  messenger.  His  servant  was  despatched  to  the 
court  printer  for  the  list  —  no  such  name  as  Morn  was  to  be  found, 
and  no  messenger  came  to  correct  an  error  of  the  press.  Dinners 
and  balls  in  honor  of  the  day  were  given  in  all  parts  of  the  city ; 
the  streets  were  gay  with  lights  and  music ;  nobody  troubled  them- 
selves about  poor  Morn  and  frustrated  hopes.  He  sat  down  in  the 
pouting  corner  of  his  sofa,  and  groaned  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart. 

Morn  had  not  passed  a  more  unhappy  night  since  his  father's 
death.  Six  long  years  had  he  served  the  State  faithfully  and 
diligently,  fed  only  on  the  thinnest  of  all  diets,  hope ;  through  his 
silent  help,  others,  with  not  half  his  talents  or  acquirements,  had 
gained  credit  and  substantial  reward ;  young  Von  Bitterblolt  had 
been  made  Chamber  President  for  the  very  service  Morn  had  per- 
formed. He  saw  that  his  industry,  his  talents,  his  knowledge, 
availed  him  nothing.  Men  who  were  not  only  ignorant  and  incapa- 
ble, but  known  to  be  so,  passed  him  everywhere  in  the  race,  if  they 
had  "  connections,"  or  had  found  some  surer  way  of  recommending 
themselves  than  by  merit  and  service. 

To  Caroline's  hand  he  must  renounce  all  pretension.  By  the 
perversest  of  all  destinies,  her  constancy  and  unswerving  faith  but 
added  to  his  sorrow.  His  social  creed  had  received  a  cruel  shock. 
The  egotism  of  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  the  want  of  integrity 
in  their  relations  with  each  other,  appeared  in  their  full  hatefulness. 
The  recollection  of  all  the  promises  made  but  to  be  broken,  the  hol- 
low professions,  the  false  smiles,  all  the  spoken  and  acted  lies  of  the 
last  six  years,  made  him  sick  at  heart.  All  that  he  had  hitherto 
labored  to  excuse  in  others  —  their  prejudice,  their  rapacity,  their 
paltry  pride,  their  envy,  their  shameful  blackening  all  better  and 
purer  than  themselves,  now  shone  out  in  all  their  native  ugliness. 
He  could  no  longer  deceive  himself ;  the  greater  part  of  the  employes 

of looked  on  their  offices  and   emoluments  but  as  the  means 

of  indulging  their  arrogance,  their  ambition,  and  animal  excessas. 


THE   TWO    MILLI0NAIEE3. 


With  respect  to  his  plans  for  the  future,  all  was  uncertainty. 
Even  had  he  been  so  inclined,  it  was  no  longer  in  his  power,  with 
his  diminished  resources,  to  labor  gratuitously  in  his  present  em- 
ployment ;  and  it  was  repugnant  to  him  to  seek  any  other  in  this 
city.  He  longed  to  flee  far  away,  to  seek  some  distant  village, 
where  none  knew  him,  and  earn  a  living  by  the  labor  of  his  hands. 
It  was  sweet  to  dream  of  shunning  all  mankind  as  louo;  as  lite  should 
last,  and  think  only  of  Devereux  and  Caroline,  as  of  two  noble 
spirits  among  thousands  of  miserable  creatures,  all  so  many  willing 
sacrifices  to  the  meanest  passions.  According  to  the  custom  of  the 
place,  and  the  people  amongst  whom  he  had  lived.  Morn  ought  to 
have  put  a  good,  or  at  least  a  smiling,  face,  upon  his  disappointment, 
congratulated  others  on  th^r  better  fortune,  and  tried  to  knit  up 
again  the  ravelled  skein  of  his  claims  and  expectations  ;  instead  of 
this,  he  wrote  a  laconic  note  to  the  head  of  his  department  to  signify 
his  renunciation  of  the  office  he  held  in  the  service  of  his  Highness, 

the  Elector  of ,  endorsed  all  the  documents  relating  to  it  in 

his  possession,  and  then  went  to  bed  and  slept  soundly. 

The  next  morning,  the  servant  of  the  house  brought  him  two 
notes  and  a  bouquet  of  snow-drops.  He  now  recollected  that  it  was 
his  birth-day,  and  breathed  a  heavy  sigh.  One  of  the  notes  was 
from  Caroline,  the  other  from  President  A^an  Bitterblolt.  Morn 
knew  the  handwriting  of  both.  "  First  for  the  bitters,"  said  he,  and 
opened  the  President's  billet.  Almost  unconsciously  to  himself,  a 
secret  hope  had  found  a  corner  of  his  breast  to  nestle  in,  that  his 
loss  would  be  regretted,  that  he  would  be  entreated  to  do  nothing 
hastily,  that  he  would  try  to  retain  him  by  giving  new  and  surer 
expectations  ;  he  had  half  forgiven  him  already.  Nothing  of  the 
sort.  His  Excellency  the  President  "  regretted,  in  courteous  terms, 
that  Mr.  Morn  had  taken  such  a  resolution,  acknowledged  the 
receipt  of  the  documents,  and  remained  his  humble  servant."  "  So 
that  is  the  reward  of  six  years'  gratuitous  service,"  said  he,  bitterly, 
and  he  flung  the  President's  official  verbiage  aside.  Caroline's 
note  accompanying  the  bouquet  was  kind  as  ever,  but  there  was  a 
tone  of  sadness  in  it.  The  same  topic  of  consolation  had  been  so 
oftea  repeated  !  He  went  to  the  window,  —  Caroline  was  already  at 
hers :  Casimir  pressed  the  flowers  to  his  lips  and  his  heart,  and 
retreated  to  his  musing  corner  again.  The  city  he  must  and  would 
leave,  and  try  his  fortune  elsewhere.  Many  were  the  projects  he 
revolved  in  his  mind.  His  only  grief  would  be  the  parting  from  the 
angal  of  his  childhood  —  the  tenderly-beloved  Caroline.  He  was 
still  engaged  in  a  long  and  most  touching  conversation  with  her  in 
imagination,  when  a  loud  knock  at  his  door,  and  the  voices  of 


24:  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

several  persons  without,  aroused  liim  from  his.  reverie.  The  door 
opened,  and  four  men  stumbled  in,  bearing  between  them  two  large 
and  apparently  very  heavy  chests.  To  the  question  of  where  were 
they  to  put  do^vn  their  burden,  Morn  answered  by  another  —  where 
did  they  get  it  from  ?     It  belonged  to  the  gentleman  who  had  just 

come  post  to .     Morn's  first  thought  was  of  Devereux ;  and 

Devereux  himself  it  was'  who  entered  in  his  travelling  dress,  just 
as  the  porters  left  the  room. 

"  I  have  been  long  enough  away  to  learn  your  full  value,"  was 
Devereux's  exclamation,  when  the  first  greetings  were  over ;  "  let 
me  take  up  my  abode  with  you  at  once ;  you  will  find  room  for  a 
friend." 

Devereux's  sudden  appearance  was  balm  to  the  wounded  heart  of 
Casimir ;  joy  almost  deprived  him  of  speech.  "  I  have  but  this 
room  and  a  bed-room,"  said  he ;  "  if  you  can  find  accommodation  on 
so  small  a  scale,  I  shall  be  but  too  happy  to  share  them  with  you." 

"  But  how  is  it  you  confine  yourself  within  such  narrow  limits  ? " 
asked  the  Englishman,  greatly  astonished. 

"  They  are  quite  as  extensive  as  my  means  permit,"  answered 
Morn,  smiling. 

"  But  I  have  been  greatly  deceived.  I  thought  you  must  be 
rich,  as  you  parted  so  readily  with  a  hundred  louis  d'ors." 

"  A  friendly  heart  is  always  rich  to  a  friend.  It  was  a  fourth 
of  my  whole  property.  If  you  had  asked  for  more  you  should  have 
had  it.     You  wanted  it." 

Devereux  looked  at  him  for  some  time  in  silence,  and  then,  ad-^ 
vancing,  grasped  his  hand  with  an  earnest  cordiality  more  expres- 
sive than  words.  "  My  servants  I  will  despatch  to  the  next  house," 
said  he,  "  but  I  remain  with  you  in  any  corner  you  can  spare.  Had 
I  been  aware  how  you  were  situated,  I  should  not  have  come  upon 
you  so  suddenly." 

The  matter  was  soon  arranged,  a  bed  prepared  by  the  side  of 
Morn's,  and  a  supper  bespoken  from  the  next  tavern.  Before  tlie 
night  was  passed,  the  hearts  of  both  were  freely  poured  out  to  each 
other.  Devereux  related  his  own  history.  He  had  been  passion- 
ately in  love  with  a  young  lady,  who  returned  his  love,  but  whose 
family,  from  some  causes  too  long  to  explain  here,  were  on  the  worst 
terms  with  his  own.  A  mutual  friend  of  the  families,  Devereux's 
oldest  and  best-loved  companion,  had  ofiered  his  mediation;  and 
Devereux  himself,  in  the  unsuspicious  confidence  of  friendship,  had 
done  everything  in  his  power  to  facilitate  his  meetings  with  his 
mistress.  The  lady's  charms  had  proved  too  powerftil  for  the 
friend's  faith;  he  sought  her  for  himself,  and  won  so  far  upon  her 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  2') 


relations,  that  the  unhappy  girl  had  only  escaped  their  persecutions 
by  her  sudden  death.  Whisper  of  suicide  got  about.  The  betrayed 
and  wretched  lover  forced  his  treacherous  friend  into  a  duel ;  they 
fought  at  Calais,  where  Devereux  had  been  left  for  dead  upon  the 
field.  Many  months  elapsed  before  his  outward  wounds  were  healed ; 
those  of  the  mind  were  incurable.  His  physicians  had  recommend- 
ed travelling ;  all  places  had  become  alike  to  him ;  and,  unable  to 
find  rest  in  any,  he  had  wandered  almost  all  over  Europe,  when  an 
accidental  delay  in  his  remittances  had  detained  him  in  the  town 
where  he  had  encountered  Morn. 

It  was  now  Casimir's  turn  to  relate  what  had  befallen  him  since 
their  meeting,  and  he  had  now,  at  least,  the  satisfaction  of  detailing 
his  wrongs  to  a  sympathizing  ear. 

"  You  have  been  deceived  only  by  the  common  herd  of  egotists, 
the  rabble  of  humanity,  but  I  by  the  friend  of  my  infancy.  Your 
beloved  yet  lives,  and  lives  for  you,  —  the  silent  grave  hides  mine ; 
you  may  find  a  remedy, —  I  never  can.  You  would  gladly  renounce 
the  world,  you  say,  —  do  so,  but  let  me  share  your  solitude.  But, 
I  repeat,  your  case  admits  of  remedy." 

"  Remedy,  what  remedy  ?  "  echoed  Morn.  "  Good  Heaven,  my 
dear  Devereux,  how  little  you  know  of  people  in  this  country ! " 

"  The  people  in  this  country  are  very  like  the  people  in  every 
other  country,"  replied  Devereux.  "  I  can  put  it  in  your  power  to 
take  a  revenge  worthy  of  them  at  least,"  added  he,  after  a  pause,  and 
with  a  bitter  smile. 

"How  so?" 

"  Only  give  me  your  word  to  throw  no  obstacle  in  my  way,  and  I 
will  bring  the  whole  pack  on  all  fours  in  a  very  short  time.  The  old 
miser  shall  give  you  his  daughter,  the  minister  shall  offer  you  all  the 
ribbons  and  trumpery  in  his  gift,  and  that  without  witchcraft.  Fair 
and  virtuous  maidens  may  be  won  by  other  qualifications  than  beauty 
or  honesty ;  honors  and  dignities  are  not  always,  or  often,  the  reward 
of  talents,  or  knowledge,  or  industry." 

"  But  explain  yourself  a  little,  —  what  is  it  you  propose  to  do  ? " 

"  0,  the  means  will  be  very  simple.  Come,  your  word  that  you 
will  not  thwart  me  in  my  project  of  making  fools  of  the  dignitaries 
in  this  good  and  electoral  city.     I  will  use  no  dishonest  means." 

"  Well,  be  it  as  you  will ;  I  have  little  reason  to  spare  them. 
Heaven  knows !     What  is  your  plan  of  operations  ?  " 

"I  must  first  know  my  men.  Let  me  become  acquainted  with 
the  field  before  I  show  my  line  of  battle.  As  a  preliminary,  how- 
ever, you  will  do  me  the  favor  to  make  use  of  my  new  carriage ,  I 
shall  put  another  pair  of  horses  to  it  to-morrow ;  you  must  drive 


26  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

about,  while  I  keep  in  tlie  back-ground,  and  draw  the  public  atten- 
tion on  you  as  much  as  possible.  As  to  your  lovely  neighbor,  give 
her  to  understand  that  you  have  had  a  large  sum  bequeathed  you  in 
England." 

Morn  shook  his  head,  not  altogether  pleased,  and  yet  unable  to 
restrain  his  laughter.  He  had  given  his  word  to  humor  Devereux's 
whim,  and  as  to  the  sentence  of  the  "  Residence,"  when  the  hoax 
should  be  known,  he  troubled  himself  little  about  that.  Whatever 
were  the  results,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  leave  the  dominions 
of  his  Highness  the  Elector.  Perhaps  the  punch,  which  had  served 
as  a  supplement  to  their  repast,  might  have  had  something  to  do 
both  with  the  proposal  and  its  acceptance. 

THE   EQUIPAGE. 

On  the  following  morning  Devereux  was  early  up  and  dressed. 

Morn  would  fain  have  obtained  some  further  explanation  of  his 
strange  freak,  but  Devereux  was  immovable,  —  vanished,  he  knew 
not  whither,  shortly  after,  and  appeared  no  more  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  day.  Instead  of  Devereux,  came  his  German  servant, 
Felix,  to  present  himself  to  his  new  master,  and  set  forth  his  new 
qualifications. 

"  Do  not  forget  the  principles,  faith  and  honesty,"  said  Morn, 
when  he  had  listened  to  the  enunciation  of  his  valet's  capabilities. 

"  Honesty,  I  can  promise  you,  sir,"  was  the  answer,  "  and  fidel- 
ity you  will  inspire  me  with." 

The  answer  pleased,  and  Felix  was  installed  with  Morn  under  the 
same  conditions  as  those  agreed  upon  with  Devereux. 

Towards  noon  Count  Von  Kreb's  name  was  announced.  The 
young  courtier  advanced  to  Morn  with  open  arms.  "  My  dear  fel- 
low, how  are  you  ?  —  It  is  a  whole  century  since  we  met.  First  let 
me  congratulate  you  on  your  aj3quisition,  though  it  is  my  own  loss. 
Ah !  my  two  glorious  bays.  But  your  homme  d'affaires  is  a 
clever  fellow,  —  up  to  every  point  about  a  horse ;  you  have  a  glori- 
ous purchase.  Upon  my  soul,  I  loved  these  two  creatures  as  my 
heart's  blood ;  if  I  had  not  outrun  my  income  confoundedly  of  late 
the  Elector  himself  should  not  have  had  them  for  his  whole  stud." 

"  Have  you  been  paid,  my  lord  count,"  stammered  Morn,  his  fac6 
flushing  scarlet,  "  or  must  I —  " 

"All  right,  my  dear  friend,  not  a  word  of  that,"  cried  the  Count; 
"  I  came  with  a  very  different  purpose.  Baron  Van  Wolpern 
would  insist  upon  my  recommending  his  place,  Dreileben,  to  you,  as 
your  agent  there  says  you  are  on  the  look-out  for  an  investment ; 
but,  on  my  honor,  though  I  could  not  refuse  one  friend,  it  .goes 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 


against  my  conscience  to  palm  off  such  a  desert  on  another.  li 
will  not  bring  one-and-a-half  per  cent.,  and  he  asks  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  gilders  for  it.     Do  you  know  the  place  at  all  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Morn,  curious  to  hear  what  would  come  next. 

"  I  entreat  you,  then,  by  all  that  is  sacred,  to  go  and  look  at  the 
wilderness ;  not  a  hamlet  to  be  seen  for  some  miles  round,  nothing 
under  your  windows  in  front  but  the  Rhine,  nothing  behind  but 
mountain  and  forest.  One  look  will  be  enough  to  frighten  you  off 
the  bargain,  unless  you  have  a  mind  to  send  a  bullet  through  your 
head  from  sheer  ennui,  before  you  have  lived  there  a  month ;  then, 
indeed,  you  could  not  do  better  than  buy  Dreileben.  Now,  with 
the  property  Dame  Fortune  has  flung  in  your  lap,  you  are  entitled 
to  look  for  something  better.  There  is  my  estate,  for  instance,  a 
real  principality  you  must  admit,  —  a  splendid  locale,  in  the  midst 
of  corn-fields,  a  soil  like  a  garden,  right  of  forest,  vineyards,  mead- 
ows, territorial  jurisdiction,  and  you  shall  have  it  for  a  hundred 
and  ninety  thousand,  cash  down.  Just  reflect  a  little,  and  only 
three  quarters  of  an  hour's  drive  from  the  residence.  Heavens, 
what  sums  it  has  cost  me  in  improvements  !  I  have  an  account 
here,  —  ah,  no,  confound  it,  I  have  the  worst  memory,  I  must  have 
left  it  in  my  desk ;  but,  my  dear  fellow,  why  not  come  and  see  for 
yourself?  —  come,  give  me  your  promise,  —  name  your  time." 

Much  in  the  same  style  did  the  noble  Count  run  on  for  some  time 
longer.  Morn  perceived  that  Devereux  had  really  commenced 
operations,  as  he  said.  He  promised  gravely  to  come  and  look  at 
the  estate  at  his  earliest  convenience,  and  Count  Krebs  took  leave 
with  the  most  lavish  assurances  of  regard.  At  dinner  time,  Dev- 
ereux made  his  appearance,  evidently  extremely  diverted  with  the 
farce  he  was  acting.  Morn,  on  the  contrary,  was  more  depressed. 
"  You  will  make  mankind  ^-et  more  contemptible  in  my  eyes,"  said 
he.  "  Not  a  week  cigo,  this  very  Count  Krebs  held  me  unworthy 
of  a  look.  I  was  never  more  surprised  than  when  I  saw  him  enter 
my  room." 

"  If  men  seem  more  contemptible  to  you,  my  friend,"  answered 
Devereux,  "the  fault  is  theirs,  not  •  mine.  The  witty  Count  was 
pointed  out  to  me,  by  the  master  of  the  hotel  where  I  sent  my  ser- 
vants, as  having  horses  which  he  was  desirous  of  parting  with,  and 
the  animals  are  really  worth  vrhat  I  gave  for  them.  AA'hen  the 
hotel-keeper  heard  that  they  were  for  you,  and  that  you  had  become 
a  rich  man,  he  praised  you  up  to  the  skies.  When  I  inquired  about 
an  estate,  a  broker  made  his  bow  in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
and  offered  me  ten,  at  least,  every  one  being,  as  he  swore,  a  perfect 
paradise.     Count   Krebs   swore,  by  all  his  gods,  that  you  were 


28  THE  TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

neither  more  nor  less  ttian  a  saint ;  that  you  deserved,  years  ago,  to 
be  made  Prime  Minister ;  that  things  would  have  looked  very  dif- 
ferent in  the  Electorate,  and  nobody  knows  what  besides.  It  is 
long  since  I  have  been  so  much  amused.  Come,  my  friend,  cheer 
up,  and  play  out  the  play.  We  must  make  all  the  puppets  dance 
to  the  same  tune." 

In  due  time,  Devereux's  splendid  new  equipage  drove  up  to  the 
door,  with  Felix  behind,  in  a  rich  livery.  Count  Kreb's  horses 
really  merited  his  eulogium ;  they  were  superb  animals.  The  whole 
street  was  in  commotion,  —  almost  every  inhabitant  loitering  about 
the  causeway,  or  standing  at  their  windows,  to  discover  the  owner 
of  so  magnificent  a  "  turn-out."  But,  when  Morn  appeared,  and 
was  assisted  in  by  his  gayly-attired  servant,  there  was  no  end  of  the 
conjectures  and  inquiries.  It  will  be  easily  supposed  that  the 
fair  Caroline  was  neither  the  least  anxious  nor  the  least  interested. 

"  I  'd  give  these  six  kreutzers,  ay,  that  I  would,  the  whole  six, 
to  know  whom  that  carriage  belongs  to,"  said  old  Romanus,  jing- 
ling in  his  hand  the  kreutzers  he  had  just  received  for  a  red  her- 
ring. 

"  That  is  easily  learnt,"  replied  his  daughter.  "  Frau  "VVeber 
(Morn's  landlady)  must  know." 

"  To  be  sure,  she  must,  my  child,"  said  the  old  gentletnan,  button- 
ing up  his  coin  in  a  great  hurry,  as  if  he  feared  to  be  taken  at  his 
word ;  "  and  I  '11  go  and  ask  her,  —  that  costs  nothing." 

"  0,  my  heavens,  who  should  it  belong  to  but  to  the  Referen- 
dary !  Have  n't  you  heard  of  his  extraordinary  good  luck,  then  ? 
Well,  I  don't  begrudge  it  him,  for  he  is  really  an  angel  of  a  man, 
and  has  just  got  a  whole  wagonful  of  gold  from  England.  They  say 
he  's  now  the  richest  man  in  the  dominions  of  our  gracious  Elector. 
His  servant  told  me  so  himself,  and  he  had  it  from  the  English  mer- 
chant who  is  stopping  in  the  house." 

The  old  miser  stared  with  leaden  eye  and  open  mouth,  as  if  sud- 
denly afflicted  with  lockjaw,  and,  without  another  word,  went  home 
again,  and  sat  himself  down  in  silence  in  the  grimy  leather-bottomed 
chair  in  the  back  of  his  shop.  Caroline  came  dancing  down  to  hear 
the  news.  For  a  long  time  her  father  gave  her  no  answer.  He 
had  made  it  a  law  to  himself  never  to  mention  Morn's  name. 

"  0,  Lord! "  groaned  he  at  last,  "  to  think  of  such  a  piece  of  luck 
befalling  a  paltry,  lounging,  good-for-nothing  son  of  a  good-for-noth- 
ing father,  who  has  cheated  me  out  of  my  whole  property  ;  while  a 
poor  old  honest  man  like  me  must  toil  and  moil  night  and  day  to 
scrape  a  few  pence  together.  Is  that  justice,  is  that  the  reward  of 
honesty  ?"  and  he  looked  ready  to  cry. 


THE  TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  29 

"  But  who  knows  whether  it's  true  or  no  ? "  said  the  worthy  elder, 
brightening  with  the  thought.  "  Wagon  full  of  money  ?  pooh !  — 
from  England  ?  pooh !  —  by  a  lucky  speculation  ?  pooh,  pooh,  pooh ! 
I  was  not  born  yesterday,  Frau  Weber."  And  Herr  Romanus 
plucked  off  his  queer-looking  little  jasey,  twirled  it  about,  as  in 
great  mental  agitation  he  was  wont,  and  rubbed  his  hands  together 
till  the  dry,  withered  members  threatened  to  ignite. 

Many  were  the  conjectures  and  remarks  to  which  Morn's  gay 
equipage  gave  rise  that  flay.  It  had  even  excited  the  notice  of  the 
Elector,  as  Morn  drove  past  the  palace.  On  the  two  succeeding 
days  the  "  excitement "  increased.  Devereux  had  given  out  that 
his  friend  had  gained  a  considerable  sum  in  England ;  and  when  he 
began  to  inquire  about  an  estate,  the  word  considerable  acquired  a 
more  "  considerable  "  meaning.  Count  Krebs,  who  always  dealt  in 
superlatives,  swore,  by  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar,  that  Morn  was 
become  the  richest  individual  in  that  part  of  Germany;  he  played 
with  his  hundred  thousands ;  he  must  own  whole  provinces  in  the 
East  and  West  Indies,  &c.,  &c.  There  is  nothing  to  which  people 
like  better  to  give  credit  than  to  the  incredible.  It  is  no  uncommon 
thing  to  see  an  upright,  simple-minded  man  held  very  cheap ;  but 
to  take  a  fool  or  a  lunatic  for  a  saint  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world.  People  can  find  absurdity  in  the  wisest  man,  with  all  the 
facility  imaginable ;  but  let  a  Cagliostro  undertake  to  work  a  mira 
cle,  and  he  is  run  after  by  high  and  low.  If  it  had  been  said, 
Morn  had  got  a  hundred  thousand  guilders,  people  would  have 
doubted,  —  but  millions,  that  produced  conviction  at  once. 

"It  is  intelligible  enough  now  why  Morn  gave  up  his  place  as 
Referendary,"  said  the  President  Von  Bitterblolt,  to  his  father,  the 
Privy  Counsellor.  "  I  thought  at  first  that  he  had  taken  offence  at 
the  omission  of  his  name  among  the  promotions." 

"  In  fact,  it  is  awkward  enough  that  he  was  passed  over,"  re- 
turned the  Privy  Counsellor;  "but who  can  always  tell  how  things 
may  turn  out  ?  We  might  have  made  room  for  him  well  enough. 
There 's  your  sistor,  too.  I  really  think  the  girl  has  taken  a  fancy 
to  him,  and,  as  the  matter  now  stands,  she  could  hardly  do  better 
for  herself." 

"  Nor  for  any  of  us,  papa.  Could  not  we  find  some  excuse  for 
the  past  ?  " 

The  father  and  the  son  laid  their  heads  together.  The  Privy 
Counsellor  took  the  first  opportunity  of  praising  the  rare  talents 
and  services  of  the  ex-Referendary  to  his  Highness  the  Elector. 
Such  a  man  must,  by  all  means,  remain  in  the  service  of  the  state, 
particularly  as  Morn  had  lately  gained  a  large  fortune  by  some  for- 


so  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

tunate  speculations  in  England.     It  would  be  a  shame  if  so  much 
wealth  should  be  squandered  out  of  the  country,  &c.,  &c. 

"  Hum,"  said  the  Elector,  "  I  was  wondering  what  made  you  all 
so  suddenly  zealous  in  Morn's  favor.  The  Finance  IMinister,  Kabe, 
was  quite  eloquent  in  his  praise  but  a  little  while  ago." 

This  speech  went  like  an  arrow  to  the  Privy  Counsellor's  heart ; 
for  the  Baron  Von  Rabe  had  also  a  daughter  to  marry,  and  he,  too, 
wanted  money. 

"  Rabe  ever  maintained,"  continued  his  Highness,  "  that  Morn, 
as  secretary  to  the  commission  of  survey  in  the  new  territory, 
had  done  the  whole  work,  while  others  pocketed  the  reward  and  the 
credit." 

The  Privy  Counsellor  smiled  with  affected  indifference,  while 
turning  sick  with  fear  and  rage ;  and  swore,  in  his  heart  of  hearts, 
war  to  the  knife  to  the  Finance  Minister,  Von  Eabe.  Morn,  in 
the  mean  time,  had  received  an  invitation  to  pay  the  Finance  Minis- 
ter a  visit.  ^ 

"  I  am  delighted,  my  dear  sir,  that  my  heartfelt  wishes  for  your 
advantage  seem  likely  at  last  to  be  fulfilled,"  said  the  minister,  with 
his  most  gracious  smile;  "  There  was  a  strong  opposition  some- 
where. I  was  never  more  surprised  than  when  I  heard  you  had 
been  so  unaccountably  passed  over.  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  make  a 
representation  on  the  subject  to  his  Highness  the  Elector  himself; 
in  fact,  I  told  him  frankly  that  the  post  of  President  of  the  Cham- 
ber, which  Von  Bitterblolt  contrived  to  appropriate  to  himself,  was 
yours  by  every  rule  of  justice.  In  consequence  of  my  remon- 
strance, his  Highness  has  been  graciously  pleased  to  fix  you  in  my 
department,  and  I  have  now  the  honor  to  present  Privy  Finance 
Counsellor  Morn  with  the  diploma  of  his  appointment." 

Morn  laid  the  diploma  on  a  table  near  him  without  opening  it ; 
thanked  the  minister  for  his  condescension ;  with  a  smile,  that  was 
bitter  in  spite  of  himself,  begged  kave  respectfully  to  decline  all  and 
every  appointment  of  the  kind. 

He  was  scarcely  at  home  again  before  the  carriage  of  Count  Von 
Bitterblolt  stopped  at  his  door. 

"  You  see  I  have  come  in  search  of  you  myself  at  last,"  said  the 
Count,  bestowing  a  paternal  embrace  on  Casimir.  "  Where  have 
you  hidden  yourself  this  century  ?  We  must  not  forget  each  other 
in  this  way.  Von  Rabe  has  played  me  a  shameful  trick  in  getting 
you  appointed  in  his  department  instead  of  mine.  I  shall  never 
forgive  him  for  it.  Apropos,  my  daughter  will  never  forgive  me, 
if  I  forget  her  message.  She  gives  a  ball  on  Wednesday,  and 
<5harged  me  to  give  you  a  special  invitation.     You  will  not  fail  her, 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  31 

I  hope  ;  ladies,  you  know,  will  not  hear  of  disappointments  on  these 
occasions." 

Countess  Ida  Yon  Bitterblolt  met  with  one  this  time,  however. 
Casimir  Morn  met  the  Privy  Counsellor's  superabundant  courtesies 
with  cold  politeness ;  and  his  Excellency  was  beaten  out  of  the  field 
for  the  present,  though  not  absolutely  deprived  of  hope  for  the 
future.  Morn's  misanthropy  was  on  the  increase :  he  despised  alike 
their  present  flattery  and  their  former  scorn  ;  of  the  two,  the  flattery 
was  the  more  offensive,  and  the  more  his  would-be  friends  endeav- 
ored to  exalt  him,  the  more  deeply  humiliated  he  felt.  He  longed 
for  nothing  so  much  as  for  solitude,  that  he  might  escape  the  sight 
and  hearing  of  their  sickening  baseness. 

"  The  miserable  wretches  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  do  they  take  me  for 
one  of  themselves  ?  My  six  years'  service  availed  me  nothing,  but 
the  mere  report  of  wealth  brings  them  about  me  like  crows  scenting 
at  a  carrion.  I  might  be  a  fool — a  villain  —  no  matter,  I  am 
supposed  to  be  a  millionaire,  and  there  is  not  a  quality  of  heart  or 
mind  which  they  are  not  willing  to  give  me  credit  for.  The  comedy 
is  too  disgusting,  Devereux." 

"  It  Is  capital  sport,"  replied  Devereux.  "  But  the  master  stroke 
is  still  to  be  played.  The  conquest  of  the  fair  Romanua  is  yet  to 
be  achieved." 


THE   VICTORY. 


Tua  conquest  was  already  half  made  before  the  friends  began  the 
attack.  Old  Romanus,  who  had  hitherto  made  it  a  rule  to  avoid 
all  mention  of  Morn's  name,  had  it  now  on  his  own  lips  from  morn- 
ing till  night.  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  million  any  longer ; 
the  whole  city  rung  with  the  news  —  he  had  refused  an  appoint- 
ment in  the  Ministry,  and  the  Minister  of  Finance,  Von  Rabe,  and 
his  Excellency  Count  Von  Bitterblolt,  were  ready  politely  to  cut 
each  other's  throats,  to  obtain  Casimir  Morn  for  a  son-in-law. 

"  They  say  he  will  choose  Countess  Ida,"  said  Caroline,  slyly 
afiecting  an  air  of  dejection,  and  glancing  her  bright  blue  eyes  on 
her  father. 

The  old  gentleman  made  no  answer,  but  nodded  his  head  with  a 
cunning  look,  and  reckoned  some  imaginary  sum  with  his  fingers. 
"Pah,  pah,  all  stuff — nonsense  —  what  has  she  got,  I  ask;  what 
has  she  got  ?  Nothing  !  a  ruined  family,  root  and  branch !  How 
thai;  pleases  me  in  the  lad  Morn  I  he  has  got  his  money  by  honest 


32  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

trade ;  but  his  father  was  a  rogue,  an  arrant  rogue,  and  has  made 
me  as  poor  as  Job,  my  girl.  I  shall  never  get  a  penny  of  all  he 
owed  me." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  well-known  stranger,  the 
Englishman  Devereux,  entered.  Caroline  blushed  like  a  carnation, 
and  Herr  Romanus  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth. 

"  I  have  a  little  business  to  transact  with  you,  Herr  Romanus,  if 
you  have  no  objection,"  said  the  stranger,  with  a  courteous  bow. 
"  You  might  find  it  highly  advantageous." 

"Business;  I  am  at  your  lordship's  service.  Do  me  the  great 
honor  to  sit  down." 

"  Mr.  Casimir  Morn,  whose  affairs  in  England  I  have  had  the 
honor  of  managing,  wishing  to  retire  from  business,  as  he  finds  his 
income  amply  sufficient,  ('  So,  so,  so,'  muttered  Romanus,)  has  been 
to  view  the  estate  of  Dreileben,  which  is  understood  to  be  for  sale ; 
he  seems  inclined  to  pui'chase  it." 

"  How,  he  indeed !  —  Dreileben !  —  but  why  Dreileben  ? — it 's  a 
large  purchase,  ticklish  speculation,  very:  they  will  ask  a  con- 
founded price,  eh  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Morn  has  taken  a  fancy  to  it,  and  the  name  pleases  him. 
He  has  often  said  it  would  be  a  Paradise  for  two,  or  perhaps  three 
friends,  who  would  desire  to  pass  their  lives  together.  By  the 
three  he  means  himself,  his  future  wife,  and  one  esteemed  friend, 
under  which  appellation  he  is  good  enough  to  understand  me." 

CaroHne's  blood  mounted  to  her  temples ;  what  could  be  the 
matter  with  her  ? 

"  But  you  are  perfectly  right  about  the  price,  Mr.  Romanus. 
Baron  Von  Wolpern  demands  no  less  a  sum  than  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  guilders:  or,  ready  money,  a  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand,  Mr.  Morn  will  pay  ready  money,  but,"  — 

"  Ready  money,  a  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  !  so,  so !  an  ex- 
cellent young  —  an  excellent  young  man." 

"  Still  the  price  seems  enormous.  -  He  wishes  that  the  bargain 
should  be  concluded  by  some  one  who  understands  the  business 
better  than  he  does.  He  would  be  wilhng  to  reward  the  trouble  of 
any  person  inclined  to  act  as  his  agent  in  this  matter,  by  a  gratifica- 
tion of  a  hundred  guilders  for  every  thousand  abated  in  the  pur- 
chase-money. Now,  he  maintains  that  there  is  not  a  man  in  the 
city  so  well  qualified  to  transact  business  of  this  nature  as  Mr. 
Romanus." 

"  Your  humble  servant,"  said  the  old  man,  glancing  suspiciously 
at  his  visitor.     He  could  not  understand  any  one  giving  away  even 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  33 

civility  for  nothing.    "  Now,  if  you  would  have  the  goodness  to  take 
this  commission  on  yourself." 

"  Hundred  for  every  thousand :  I  am  at  your  lordship's  com- 
mand." 

•'  It  is  a  matter  of  extreme  vexation  to  Mr.  Morn  that  he  has 
not  been  on  such  good  terms  with  you  of  late  years  as  formerly." 

"Trifles,  tut  —  mere  trifles,  mere  trifles." 

"  He  told  me,  that  at  first  it  was  his  intention  to  have  put  his 
little  capital  in  your  hands  instead  of  employing  it  in  England ;  and, 
indeed,  after  that,  he  would  have  proposed  a  speculation  in  the 
English  funds,  but  your  coolness  towards  him  — " 

"  Trifles,  I  tell  you,  thunder  and  lightning !  —  mere  trifles ;  and 
how  should  I  know  what  he  meant  ? "  said  the  old  man,  half  crying. 
"  Why  was  he  so  hard-hearted  to  a  poor  man  like  me,  as  not  to  say 
a  word  about  it  when  he  was  rolling  in  gold  ?  " 

"  But  to  return  to  this  afiair  of  Dreileben ;  are  you  inclined  to 
undertake  it  ? " 

Romanus  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  with  his  hands  behind 
him,  muttering  and  grumbling  to  himself  for  some  minutes.  "  I  '11 
do  it,"  said  he,  at  length ;  "  the  profit  is  small,  very  small,  but  times 
are  bad,  very  bad ;  an  honest  tradesman  must  not  let  anything  slip 
through  his  fingers." 

In  eight  days  the  purchase  was  completed.  Herr  Romanus  made 
a  snug  little  profit  of  a  thousand  guilders,  and  went  quite  cheerfully 
to  Casimir  to  announce  the  conclusion  of  the  business,  and  congratu- 
late him  on  his  acquisition. 

"And  we  may  be  good  friends  again,  my  worthy  Mr.  Casimir," 
said  the  old  man  with  a  smile,  yet  somewhat  embarrassed. 

"  I  desire  nothing  more  earnestly,  Mr.  Eomanus,"  said  Casimir, 
warmly.  "  Grant  me  but  one  favor  —  make  me  and  your  daughter 
happy  at  once." 

"  It  can't  be,  Mr.  Morn.  Have  n't  I  told  you,  over  and  over 
again,  that  the  money  I  lost  through  your  father  has  made  me  as 
poor  as  a  church-mouse  ?  " 

"  Not  so  very  poor,  I  should  hope,"  said  Morn,  smiling. 

"  A  beggar,  sir ;  I  tell  you,  a  downright  beggar.  Ah,  worthy 
Mr.  Casimir,  you  are  a  rich  man  now,  and  you  are  an  honorable 
man  ;  you  won't  let  a  poor  old  man  like  me  suffer ;  you  '11  make  up 
my  loss  to  me !  " 

"Well,  and  if  I  do  — then?" 

"Then  I  '11  thank  you  on  my  knees." 

"  But,  your  daughter  ? " 

"  And  the  interest  for  seven  years." 
3 


■■*f . 


34  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

"  Well,  and  the  interest  —  then  ?  " 

"  Then  the  whole  city  will  say,  what  a  worthy,  honest,  excellent, 
upright  man  you  are." 

"  But  Caroline  ?  " 

"  x\nd  you  must  not  forget  that  I  gave  your  father  the  eight 
thousand  dollars  in  gold.  Oh,  Mr.  Casimir,  louis  d'ors  and  Caro- 
lines, all  gold,  all  full  weight.  If  you  had  seen  them.  Heaven 
forgive  me  my  sins  !  I  would  not  swear,  Mr.  Casimir,  but  it  makes 
my  old  eyes  run  over  to  think  of  it !  " 

"  But  if  I  give  you  fifteen  hundred  Carolines  for  one  Caroline  ? 
For  your  daughter  Caroline  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but,  with  .the  interest,  it  would  be  above 
two  thousand ! " 

"  And  if  I  did  not  hesitate  to  give  you  the  two  thousand,  as  soon 
as  your  daughter  "  — 

"  You  are  jesting  with  me,  Mr.  Morn.  You  see  what  little  I 
have  I  want  myself.  I  have  been  obliged  to  run  in  debt.  Your 
father's  bankruptcy  was  the  ruin  of  me.  I  can  give  the  girl  noth- 
ing but  what  she  carries  on  her  back." 

"Be  it  so,  I  will  take  her  on  your  own  terms.' 

"Why,  then  I  —  I  must  ask  the  girl  herself." 

Herr  R<Dmanus  betook  himself  to  his  daughter.  Morn  was  ready 
to  dance  for  joy.  He  flew  like  'One  beside  himself  to  Devereux,  to 
relate  his  success,  and  ask  his  sympathy,  and  Dever»^ux  gave  it 
heartily. 

Within  eight  days  the  marriage  contract  was  drawn  out  and 
signed,  and  the  lovely  Caroline  Romanus  became  a  yet  lovelier 
Caroline  Morn.  Till  Dreileben  was  ready  for  their  reception, 
Devereux  had  taken  care  to  provide  a  suitable  residence  in  the  town. 


THE   FIRST    OF    APRIL. 

"The  joke  must  be  carried  through,"  said  the  Englishman. 
"  The  whole  city  bows  down  before  you,  dear  Morn ;  even  the 
Court  itself  courts  your  friendship.  We  will  turn  over  a  new  leaf 
now.  I  shall  give  you  out  for  jwor,  and  see  what  sort  of  a 
grimace  your  dear  friends  will  make  then.  And  when  the  con- 
temptible crew  have  sunk  themselves  as  low  as  possible,  we  will  turn 
our  backs  upon  them  forever.  I  have  let  Baron  Von  Wolpern  into 
the  secret,  for  I  must  chastise  the  old  curmudgeon,  your  father-in- 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  35 

law,  for  the  Jew's  bargain  he  has  driven  with  you.     No  remon- 
strance —  he  deserves  it." 

Devereux  told  the  simple  truth.  The  whole  town  were  bowing 
to  the  ground  before  the  supposed  millionaire.  And  how  should 
people,  accustomed  from  their  very  childhood  to  value  wealth,  show, 
luxury,  above  all  earthly  good,  do  otherwise  ?  —  how  feel  anything 
but  admiration  and  reverence  for  the  amiable  young  man,  who  pos- 
sessed the  prettiest  wife,  the  finest  estate  in  the  territory,  and  a 
million  ?  The  noblest  and  stiffest  backs  in  the  city  bent  in 
homage  to  this  new  luminary.  Every  one  was  solicitous  for  the 
notice  of  Herr  Von  Morn  ;  every  lip  instinctively  uttered  the  noble 
prefix,  without  asking  for  the  patent.  Ministers,  Grand  every- 
things,  and  Count  everybodies,  loaded  him  with  invitations.  At 
some  of  the  fetes  where  he  was  most  pressingly  invited,  the  electoral 
family  were  present ;  the  noble  hoj^ts  were  solicitous  to  present 
Herr  Von  Morn  to  their  Highnesses,  and  their  Highnesses'  reception 
was  most  gracious ;  but,  strange  to  say,  the  object  of  all  these  flat- 
tering attentions  felt  anything  but  flattered.  Not  for  what  he  was, 
but  for  what  he  had,  were  all  these  caresses  lavished  ;  and  it  was 
with  no  small  violence  to  his  feelings  that  he  constrained  himself  to 
go  through  the  disgusting  farce. 

"  I  can  bear  it  no  longer,"  said  Morn  on  one  (jccasion,  when  a 
stronger  dose  of  incense  than  ordinary  had  been  ofiered  up ;  and 
Devereux  in  reply  said,  "  We  must  carry  it  through ;  I  shall  give 
you  out  for  poor." 

Towards  the  latter  end  of  March,  Devereux  had  gone  about  with 
a  look  of  affected  anxiety,  and  dropped  mysterious  hints  of  bad  news 
from  England.  He  spoke  of  certain  speculations  being  subject  to 
enormous  losses,  as  well  as  enormous  gains.     "  It  was  so  fortunate 

he  had  so  many  powerful  friends  in ,"  and  so  forth.     Baron 

Von  Wolpern  was  seen  to  shake  his  head  and  look  thoughtful,  when 
the  sale  of  Dreileben  was  talked  of —  "  the  purchase  money  was  not 
yet  paid  down."  It  was  whispered  that  Morn's  splendid  new  equi- 
page would  be  disposed  o^ privately  :  the  town-house  was  announced 
to  be  let.  The  news  flew  like  wildfire  through  the  town,  with  a 
thousand  additions.  On  the  first  of  April  the  matter  wa«  placed 
beyond  a  doubt,  by  Morn's  driving  about  to  all  his  new  friends, 
among  whom  it  became  known,  with  wonderful  rapidity,  that  from 
some  he  had  requested  loa7is,  from  others  securities  or  their  good 
offices  with  the  Elector  for  an  appointment,  &c.  All  those  who,  but 
four-and-twenty  hours  before,  had  overwhelmed  him  with  offers  of 
services,  and  haU'-stiiied  him  with  embraces,  were  in  consternation  at 
this  new  state  o?  aii-iirs.     Some  were  "  grieved  beyond  measure,"  iD 


36  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

proper  courtly  phrase,  and  others  excused  themselves  coldly — "they 
made  it  a  rule  never  to  be  surety  for  any  one  ;"  they  had  no  interest; 
some  smiled  with  scarcely  concealed  malicious  pleasure  at  the  sud- 
den vanishing  of  the  fairy  treasure.  One  thing  was  evident,  there 
was  neither  credit,  money,  nor  interest,  left  in  the  whole  city. 

A  splendid  ball  and  supper  at  the  house  of  his  Excellency  Count 
Von  Bitterblolt,  at  which  Herr  and  Frau  Yon  Morn  were  to  have  been 
present,  was,  for  some  unexplained  cause,  adjoui-ned  sine  die. 
With  old  Romanus  the  result  of  all  this  was  rather  more  serious 
than  was  intended.  To  him  came  Baron  Yon  Wolpern  one  fine 
morning,  accompanied  by  a  lawyer  of  eminence,  and  politely  re- 
quested of  him,  as  negotiator  in  the  purchase  of  Dreileben,  security 
for  the  payment  of  the  sum  agreed  on. 

Romanus  had  certainly  given  no  written  surety  for  his  son-in- 
law  ;  but,  in  his  eagerness  to  gripe  the  proffered  gain,  he  had  ver- 
bally, and  pretty  plainly  given  it  to  be  understood,  that,  to  hasten 
the  purchase,  he  was  ready  to  make  advances ;  but  nothing  was 
further  from  his  thoughts  than  to  be  taken  at  his  word.  The  evil 
reports  that  had  been  before  flying  about  town  had  sorely  disquieted 
him,  and  Morn's  evasive  answer  to  the  questions  he  put  to  him  had 
by  no  means  tended  to  still  the  perturbation  of  his  spirit.  But  when 
the  Baron  and  his  lawyer  made  their  appearance,  he  was  driven 
well-nigh  crazy  !  In  a  few  hours  after  the  Baron's  visit  he  had  a 
fit  of  apoplexy — the  very  mention  of  a  physician  made  him  furious 
and  the  evening  saw  the  end  of  his  cares  and  his  life  together. 


DBEILEBEN. 


This  sudden  death  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  afiairs.  Ro- 
manus left  enormous  wealth  behind  him,  much  more  than  had  been 
expected.  Casimir  Morn  had  now  really  become  the  millionaire  for 
which  his  rich  and  whimsical  friend  had  compelled  him  to  pass. 
Dreileben  had  been  bought  in  Morn's  name,  but  the  money  had 
been  furnished  by  Devereux,  to  whom,  by  an  agreement  between  him 
and  Morn,  it  had  been  immediately  conveyed.  Almost  as  much 
disgusted  with  the  world  as  his  friend,  Devereux  had  resoh'ed  to 
end  his  days  in  some  agreeable  solitude.  The  charge  of  overlooking 
the  estate  was  to  be  Morn's ;  he  had  positively  refused  to  accept  any 
gift  from  his  English  friend.  Both  were  now  nearly  equally 
wealthy,  but  their  plan  of  life  remained  the  same.     On  the  other 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIKES.  37 

hand,  tlie  worthy  citizens  of faced  about  as  if  struck  by  a 

conjurer's  wand  :  "It  was  the  first  of  April  when  we  heard  of  this 
sudden  loss ;  ah,  the  arch-jester,  it  was  really  too  bad,  but  admirably 
done  too  !  "  High  and  low  enjoyed  the  joke  alike ;  Morn's  doors 
were  again  besieged  with  visitors;  wealth  and  credit  returned  in  a 
wonderfully  short  time;  the  acceptance  of  securities  and  recom- 
mendations was  pressed  as  the  greatest  possible  favor  to  the  givers ; 
and  as  to  dinners,  balls,  concerts,  &c.,  &c.,  there  was  no  end  of 
them. 

"  I  am  heart-sick  at  all  this,"  said  Morn.  "  Come,  Caroline,  come, 
Devereux,  let  us  to  Dreileben,  and  forget  these  whited  mockeries. 
I  have  been  long  enough  a  dupe.  What  more  have  I  to  do  in  the 
world,  as  it  is  called  ?  Why  should  I  be  any  longer  a  witness  of 
these  hollow  jugglers,  the  sport  of  their  false  smiles  ?  Be  wise  as 
Solomon ;  pure  as  an  angel ;  sacrifice  yourself  for  society ;  be  a 
model  of  disinterestedness  and  beneficence  —  but  poor  in  this 
world's  goods,  and  you  are  nothing,  or  worse  than  nothing !  Every 
blockhead  will  be  exalted  above  you  —  every  cold-hearted  egotist 
sneer  you  down — every,  even  acknowledged,  scoundrel  be  honored 
and  caressed  before  you,  if  he  but  possess  that  mightiest  of  talismans 

—  wealth." 

As  soon  as  the  business  of  the  inheritance  was  arranged,  and  the 
house  and  business  of  old  Romanus  disposed  of.  Morn  left  the  city, 
in  company  with  his  wife  and  his  friend,  and  has  never  since  been 
known  to  enter  it. 

About  six  years  after  these  occurrences  I  had  occasion  to  pay  a 
visit  to  the  electoral  city.  I  knew  that  my  old  university  fi-iend, 
Casimir  Morn,  had  formerly  held  some  appointment  there,  and  was 
rejoicing  in  the  prospect  of  renewing  my  acquaintance  with  him. 
My  earliest  inquiries  were  concerning  him.  Few  knew  anything 
about  him ;  at  last  I  learnt  that  he  was  living  at  Dreileben,  brood 
ing  over  his  money-bags,  as  his  father-in-law  had  done  before  him, 
and  keeping  up  no  intercourse  whatever  with  his  neighbors.  As 
soon  as  I  had  gathered  these  particulars,  I  got  into  a  chaise  one  fine 
morning,  and  drove  to  Dreileben,  musing  and  lamenting  by  the  way 
on  the  perverse  accident  that  could  have  changed  my  open-hearted, 
open-handed  school  friend  into  that  most  pitiful  of  created  beings  - 
a  miser. 

The  road  lay  through  a  succession  of  richly  cultivated  fields,  to  a 
forest,  where,  as  the  peasants  informed  us,  the  mansion  was  situated 

—  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  When  I  entered  the  forest,  how- 
ever, I  found  it  no  forest,  but  a  delightful  compromise  between  park 
and  garden,  adorned  on  every  side  with  gracefal  temples,  the  rarest 


38  THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

plants,  and  exquisite  groups  of  statuary  in  the  purest  marble.  The 
expense  of  creating  such  a  place  must  have  been  enormous.  A 
spacious  and  magnificent  house,  with  extensive  out-buildings  for 
agricultural  purposes,  stood  before  me,  approached  over  a  wide  lawn 
smooth  as  velvet,  and  skirted  by  a  magnificent  orangery.  Every- 
where I  saw  traces  of  an  almost  royal  outlay,  guided,  however,  by 
a  noble  taste ;  none  whatever  of  the  avarice  attributed  to  the  pos- 
sessor. 

As  I  was  getting  out  of  the  carriage  a  servant  in  a  rich  livery 
advanced  to  meet  me,  and,  in  answer  to  my  inquiries  for  his  master, 
was  "  very  sorry,  but  the  family  had  left  Dreileben  that  morn- 
ing early,  and  were  not  expected  back  for  some  days."  As  there 
was  no  help  for  it,  I  returned  to  town ;  in  another  week,  I  repeated 
the  attempt,  but  with  no  better  success  ;  the  family  were  still  absent. 
As  my  stay  in  the  city  was  limited,  I  felt  greatly  vexed  at  my 
failure,  and  could  not  help  expressing  it  in  the  circle  I  joined  in  the 
evening.     I  was  answered  by  a  general  laugh. 

"  If  you  were  to  go  twenty  times  to  Dreileben,"  said  one  of  the 
party  to  me,  "  you  would  get  the  same  reception.  You  might  have 
been  spared  the  trouble  of  going  if  you  had  mentioned  your  inten- 
tion beforehand.  No  one,  be  he  who  he  may,  is  ever  admitted 
within  their  doors.  They  have  telescopes  planted  at  certain  points 
commanding  the  road,  so  that  they  are  never  to  be  taken  by  sur- 
prise. All  the  servants  are  previously  instnicted,  and,  as  soon  as 
any  one  of  them  spies  a  visitor,  he  runs  in  to  warn  his  misanthropical 
masters." 

Thus  informed,  I  wrote  to  Morn,  expressing  my  desire  to  see  him 
once  more,  and  entreating  that  he  would  make  me  an  exception  to 
his  general  rule.  I  received  a  courteous  answer,  and  the  assurance 
that  for  me  he  would  be  at  home  ;  the  day  and  hour  when  I  should 
be  expected  were  punctually  named. 

When  I  came  within  sight  of  the  house,  Morn  advanced  to  meet 
me,  with  his  beautiful  wife  on  his  arm.  Both  received  me  with  a 
kindness  and  cordiality  I  had  little  expected,  after  all  I  had  heard, 
and  presented  me  to  their  friend,  Devereux ;  he  was  a  young  man 
about  Morn's  own  age,  of  a  graceful  and  highly  prepossessing  ex- 
terior, and  anything  but  cynical  in  appearance.  In  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  we  were  the  best  friends  in  the  world.  I  was  entertained  with 
a  magnificence  that  I  have  not  always  found  even  in  princely 
palaces.  The  interior  of  the  house  corresponded  with  the  costliness 
of  the  arrangements  without.  The  library  was  splendid  ;  the  walls 
of  all  the  larger  rooms  adorned  with  masterpieces  of  the  greatest 
painters ;  and  a  music-room  furnished  with  the  jfinest  instruments. 


THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  39 

In  mj  honor  there  "was  a  concert  such  as  I  have  seldom  heard  fix)in 
amateurs.  The  upper  servants  were  all  musical,  and  the  heads  of 
the  family  performers  of  no  ordinary  pretensions. 

Morn  had  two  lovely  children ;  Devereux  was  still  a  bachelor, 
and  announced  his  determination  of  dying  one.  "  And  you  are 
really  happy  here  in  your  beautiful  retirement  ?  "  said  I,  inquir- 
ingly, when  we  were  sitting  in  a  pavilion  in  the  garden,  overlooking 
the  lordly  Rhine. 

Mom  smiled.  "  Why  not  ?  "We  form  our  own  world  here,  and 
it  is  our  happiness  to  know  nothing  of  the  other  by  experience.  If 
we  feel  any  curiosity  about  the  proceedings  of  the  fools,  there  are 
the  newspapers  to  inform  us.  We  prefer,  however,  to  learn  what 
the  nobler  spirits  of  other  times  have  taught,  or  invented,  or  done  ; 
to  learn  it  in  the  immortal  legacy  of  works  they  have  bequeathed 
us.  All  that  Nature,  Art,  and  Science  afford  of  fairest  and  noblest 
surrounds  us  here.  What  is  wanting  to  our  heaven  ?  Intercourse 
with  the  rapacious,  mentally  crippled,  corrupt,  self-seeking  herd 
without,  would  suUy  its  purity,  and  make  us  partakers  in  their 
well-deserved  misery.  Well  is  it  for  those  who  can  free  themselves 
from  the  coil,  and,  living  with  and  for  themselves,  look  on  the  say- 
ings and  doings  of  what  you  call  the  world,  as  on  a  theatrical  spec- 
tacle, in  which  they  are  spectators,  not  actors." 

These  expressions  led  to  a  conversation  on  the  true  social  relations 
of  the  wise  ;  and  it  was  then  that  Mom  related  his  own  and  Dev* 
ef  eux's  stories,  as  I  have  repeated  them  to  you. 


PART  II. 


When  the  Counsellor  had  concluded  the  history  of  his  first  Mil  • 
lionaire,  Morn's  conduct  was  warmly  discussed,  and  variously  com- 
mented on.  All  agreed  that  his  scorn  of  the  world  and  absolute 
seclusion  must  be  looked  upon  as  a  revenge  taken  for  its  previous 
neglect,  when  the  chances  turned  in  his  favor ;  but,  while  some  of 
the  circle  held  him  perfectly  justifiable,  if  not  praiseworthy,  in  such 
indulgence  of  his  feelings,  others  censured  him  loudly ;  had  his  cir- 
cumstances been  different,  he  might  have  been  excused ;  but  the 
withdrawal  from  all  intercourse  with  his  fellows,  pardonable  as  self- 
defence  in  a  poor  man,  was  sheer  es-otism  and  narrow-hearted ness 
m  a  rich  one. 

''Rich  or  poor,"  said  one,  "  every  man  has  a  right  to  seek  his 
own  happiness  in  his  own  way,  provided  he  injure  no  one  in  the 
means  selected." 

**  Will  you  tell  us  how  a  man,  gifted  alike  by  nature  and  fortune, 
can  withdraw  himself  from  the  active  duties  of  life,  without  injuring 
a  great  many?  "  retorted  an  anti-Mornite. 

"  It  is  easy  to  be  philanthropic  in  theory,"  said  another,  "  but, 
honestly  speaking,  which  of  us  would  be  inclined  to  sacrifice  him- 
self for  the  good  of  society,  supposing  his  own  views  of  happiness 
to  consist  in  the  renunciation  of  it?  Would  you;  or  you;  or 
you?"  ^ 

''Besides,  Morn  did  not  reject  the  world  till  the  world  rejected 
him,"  added  the  first  speaker. 

"  That  is,  he  was  cheated  by  a  few  knaves,  from  whom  no  one 
in  their  senses  would  have  expected  anything  else,  and  he  did 
not  find  everybody  ready  to  make  prompt  acknowledgment  of  hia 

(40) 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  41 

merits  and  services,  some  of  them  being,  by  the  by,  known  only  to 
those  interested  in  concealing  them." 

"  Was  he  the  only  person  who,  because  his  situation  was  subordi 
nate,  has  been  obliged  to  submit  in  silence,  while  others  engrossed 
the  fruits  of  his  labors  ?     Right  doing  would  be  a  mighty  easy  thing, 
if  applause  and  profit  were  its  certain  rewards." 

These  words  produced  a  second  dispute.  Each  defended  his 
own  views  with  warmth,  if  not  with  judgment ;  and  the  party  sep- 
arated more  confirmed,  or  at  least  more  obstinate,  in  their  own 
opinion  than  ever.  At  the  next  weekly  meeting  at  the  Forest 
Counsellor's,  some  of  the  disputants  took  up  the  argument  where 
they  had  left  it,  and  prepared  to  fight  the  battle  manfully  all  over 
again.  The  Counsellor  remained  faithful  to  his  character  for  mod- 
eration, and  chose  a  middle  path  between  Morn's  censurers  and  his 
eulogists.  The  party  were  getting  somewhat  warm,  when  our  host 
reminded  us  that  we  had  not  yet  heard  the  story  of  the  second  Mil- 
lionaire. There  was  an  immediate  silence,  at  which  the  Counsellor 
dexterously  profited  to  put  an  end  to  the  dispute  by  the  following 
narration :  — 

Some  years  ago,  I  was  returning  from  Amsterdam,  where  I  had 
been  sent  by  my  government  to  obtain  payment  for  some  timber  for 
ship-building,  about  which  some  difficulties  had  arisen  with  the  Dutch 
government.  I  had  succeeded  beyond  my  expectation  in  my  commis- 
sion ;  a  new  and  more  advantageous  bargain  had  been  made,  and  I 
was  congratulating  myself  on  the  credit  I  should  obtain  with  my 
government.  It  was  evening :  I  was  snugly  packed  in  the  corner 
of  my  new  travelling  chaise,  hugging  myself  on  the  prospect 
of  a  comfortable  night's  rest,  after  travelling  the  whole  of  the  pre- 
ceding night  over  some  of  the  worst  roads  in  Germany,  and  that  is 
saying  much.  I  was  soon  shaken  out  of  my  doze  into  which  I  had 
fallen  by  a  tremendous  jolt.  My  old  servant,  Kunz,  who  was  on 
the  box,  was  sent  flying  through  the  an*,  and  deposited  high  and 
dry  on  a  bank  by  the  road-side,  before  he  had  time  to  take  the 
pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  I  was  projected  with  such  force  in  the 
rear  of  the  postilion,  that  he  was  under  the  horses'  feet  in  a  second. 
Fortunately,  the  animals,  being  natives,  "  and  to  the  matter  born," 
took  our  mishap  very  coolly,  and  stood  quite  still,  while  the  bipeds 
were  scattering  in  all  directions,  as  if  it  had  been  an  adventure  they 
expected,  and  had  made  up  their  minds  to.  The  axle-tree  and  a 
spring  of  the  chaise  were  broken,  and  so  was  the  postilion's  nose; 
I  was  quit  for  the  fright,  but  poor  Kunz  had  dislocated  his  shoulder. 
With  some  difficulty  and  great  exertion  we  managed  to  get  the 
chaise  lo  the  next  village,  and  to  the  inn,  or  rather  beer-house,  — 


42  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

there  was  but  one,  and  that  a  dirty,  smoky  den.  I  inquired  imme- 
diately for  a  smith  and  a  wheelwright ;  neither  were  to  be  had  in 
the  place,  and  the  landlord  himself  advised  me  to  go  to  Hard, 
where  I  should  get  all  I  wanted.  "  There  were  no  better  work- 
men for  many  miles  round  than  were  to  be  found  at  Hard." 

Poor  Kunz  was  suffering  greatly,  and  the  Esculapius  of  the 
village,  who  had  been  immediately  summoned,  could  only  shake 
his  head  and  lament  that  the  surgeon  had  died  a  few  weeks  before 
—  he  himself  never  undertook  operations.  ' '  The  best  thing  you  can 
do,"  said  he,  "is  to  take  your  servant  to  Hard,  where  you  will  find 
an  excellent  surgeon." 

*'  And  where,  then,  is  this  same  Hard  ?  "  asked  I ;  "  /know  no 
town  of  that  name  here." 

"  It  is  not  a  town ;  it  is  a  village,  a  short  four  miles  hence." 

•*  And  how  is  it  that  the  best  artisans  and  the  most  skilful  pro- 
fessional men  live  in  the  villages  instead  of  the  towns?  " 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  doing  of  the  Schulze;  he  is  a  strange  charac- 
ter, —  a  humorist,  as  it  is  called,  —  a  fool,  /say,  who  can  do  noth- 
ing like  other  people.  He  wants  to  make  a  city  of  his  paltry  vil- 
lage, I  believe.  He  has  money  enough;  they  say  he  is  a  mil- 
lionaire, and  it  is  like  enough ;  but  he  is  a  miserable,  parsimonious 
wretch,  and  has  as  many  whims  as  heirs.  I  know  him  well  enough, 
though  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  thank  Heaven  !  " 

"  And  I  shall  find  a  good  inn  at  Hard,  you  say  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  certainly;  a  very  good  one.  There  are  mineral 
waters  there.  Ha  Schulze  has  built  a  house  there  for  the  visitors 
to  the  springs,  and  that  will  be  his  ruin  in  my  humble  opinion,  — 
that  and  the  doctor  he  has  thought  fit  to  establish  there  ;  —  a  con- 
ceited, ignorant  body  —  a  mere  quack,  with  his  new-fangled  no- 
tions." 

The  old  gentleman  held  forth  long  and  loudly  in  dispraise  of 
his  learned,  or  unlearned,  brother  or  rival,  whichever  he  might  be ; 
nevertheless,  as  he  admitted  I  should  find  the  best  surgeon,  the 
best  wheelwright,  and  the  best  smith,  in  Hard,  to  Hard  I  resolved 
to  go.  On  the  following  morning,  the  chaise  was  patched  up  as 
well  as  it  could  be  with  ropes  and  poles ;  Kunz,  who  was  still  in 
great  pain,  packed  in  as  comfortably  as  circumstances  admitted, 
and  despatched  before  me  to  the  much-talked-of  Hard;  and  the 
weather  being  extraordinarily  fine,  and  the  way  not  easily  mistaken, 
I  followed  on  foot. 

Scarcely  half  a  mile  from  the  village  I  was  leaving,  there  was  a 
sudden  and  striking  improvement  in  the  condition  of  the  land.  On 
both  sides  of  the  carefully  kept  road  were  rows  of  fruit-trees,  in  the 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  43 

finest  order.  The  fields  beyond  seemed  admirably  cultivated ;  not 
a  weed  to  be  seen,  the  grass  abundant,  and  of  the  richest  quality. 
Before  me  lay  the  village,  consisting  of  cottages,  not  forming  a 
street,  but  scattered  among  trees,  as  in  a  great  garden.  In  the 
middle  of  the  village,  on  a  gentle  eminence,  rose  the  church.  The 
whole  arrangement  of  the  place,  the  style  of  building,  and  the  ex- 
traordinary fertility  of  the  land  around,  the  more  agi'ecably  sur- 
prised me  from  the  striking  contrast  it  presented  to  all  I  had  hith- 
erto seen  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

"  Why,  this  village  of  yours  is  a  perfect  paradise,  father,"  said 
I  to  an  aged  peasant,  who  just  then  came  up  with  me;  "I  have 
seen  no  such  land  as  this  for  many  a  mile." 

"Yes,  Grod  be  praised,  there  is  no  fault  to  be  found  with  the 
land  !"  returned  the  ancient,  leaning  on  his  stick  to  rest  himself  be- 
side me  as  I  stopped  to  look  round  me. 

"  How  comes  it  that  your  village  lies  so  scattered,  so  unlike  the 
other  villages  about  ?  "  said  I. 

"Ugh  I"  replied  the  old  man,  with  a  discontented  grunt, 
"unlike  it  is,  sure  enough.  Our  village  was  burnt  to  the  ground 
about  fifteen  years  ago,  and  we  were  obliged  to  build  it  so,  because 
the  government  would  have  it.  They  could  n't  have  done  it  worse. 
I  have  a  good  mile  further  to  go  to  church  every  Sunday,  and 
that 's  hard  enough  for  us  old  folks,  especially  in  winter,  and  some 
must  go  further  still.  Ah !  it  was  a  terrible  fire,  sure  enough. 
There  were  not  five  houses  spared." 

"  And  how  did  the  fire  happen?  " 

"Ugh!  Heaven  knows!  People  say  all  sorts  of  things! 
Some  will  have  it  the  Schulze  set  it  on  fire  himself,  on  purpose  to 
vex  us ;  but  I  don't  say  that  exactly." 

"  But  that  is  a  terrible  charge,  indeed,  against  your  Schulze." 

"Ah!"  said  the  elder,  shaking  his  head  significantly,  "many 
and  many 's  the  trick  he  has  played  us.  He  was  schoolmaster 
here  first ;  but  he  had  interest  somehow  with  the  government,  and 
so  he  was  palmed  upon  us  as  the  Schulze.  0,  he  's  as  cunning  as 
a  fox,  and  as  hard  to  catch  !  " 

"Is  he  rich?" 

"I  believe  you;  as  rich  as  a  Jew.  But  he  can't  enjoy  his 
money ;  he  lives  poorer  than  any  day-laborer.  But  he  is  caught 
sometimes,  cunning  as  he  is/'  added  the  old  man,  chuckling. 
"  When  the  whim  seizes  him,  he  throws  away  his  money  by  the 
handful.  He  '11  ruin  himself  at  last  with  his  new-fangled  nonsense  ; 
and  who  cares?  He  only  uses  his  money  to  tyrannize  over  hia 
poor  neighbors." 


44  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 


In  this  strain  the  ancient  went  on  wandering,  till  I  wished  him 
good  morning,  and  he  struck  off  through  a  by-path. 

The  view  was  so  charming,  so  like  our  dreams  of  Arcadia,  that, 
invokintarily  loitering  on  my  way,  I  sat  down  under  a  tree  to 
enjoy  it  at  my  leisure.  "  How  happy,  how  supremely  happy,  might 
the  dwellers  in  this  paradise  become,  if  Satan  did  not  always  take 
a  hand  in  the  game  of  life  !  "  thought  I.  *'  Who  but  Satan  could 
have  put  it  into  the  heads  of  the  government  to  send  a  fellow  here 
to  play  the  great  man,  and  make  these  honest  folks  miserable?  " 

While  I  thus  mused  an  old  woman  passed,  whom  I  immediately 
hailed. 

"  Good  day,  mother !  Whereabouts  in  the  village  is  the  public 
house,  can  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Straight  on,  sir,  on  the  left  hand,  near  the  church;  I  am  the 
landlady." 

' '  So  much  the  better.  Then  you  can  tell  me  at  once  what 
accommodation  I  can  have  for  myself  and  my  servant  for  a  few 
days." 

"0,"  said  the  old  lady  with  a  discontented  air,  "that's  an- 
other thing.  I  can't  lodge  gentlefolk ;  I  've  no  convenience. 
You  must  go  to  t'other  house  there,  higher  up  on  the  hill.  I  saw  a 
broken  gimcrack  of  a  chaise  there  a  while  agone ;  I  suppose  it  was 
yours." 

"Do  you  see  that  little  white  house  with  the  green  shutters, 
there?"  continued  the  old  woman,  when  I  asked  for  some  further 
direction ;  "  that 's  the  Schulze's,  and  close  to  it  is  the  big  new  inn 
for  strangers." 

"0,  and  that  belongs  to  the  Schulze  also,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Why,  yes,  and  no,  as  one  may  say, — it  is  his'n,  and  it  is 
not,  like  everything  else  hereabouts.  It 's  all  his  fault  that  it  was 
built." 

"  It  is  of  no  advantage  to  you,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  it,  indeed,  nor  to  any  one  else.  Since  he  's  been  in  the 
village,  my  house  is  not  worth  half  what  it  was.  God  forgive  him  ! 
he  will  have  much  to  answer  for  at  the  last  day.  Yes,  yes,"  con- 
tinued she,  grumbling,  * '  I  should  change  my  plan,  quotha.  A  pretty 
thing,  indeed,  at  my  time  of  life,  to  go  to  school !  I  was  not  to  be 
cozened  that  way,  Mr,  Schulze !  The  heavens  be  praised  !  I  can 
do  without  him  or  the  house  either,  for  the  matter  of  that." 

While  she  was  speaking,  I  heard  a  sudden  and  warm  strife  of 
tongues  in  one  of  the  neighboring  cottages.  The  old  lady  pricked  up 
her  ears,  and  nodded  her  head  with  a  smile  of  malicious  satisfaction. 
"  Ah,  ah !  old  Gletchen  's  catching  it  at  last;  serve  her  right,  too 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  45 

—  serve  her  right!  "  and  the  old  dame  trotted  off,  evidently  well 
pleased  that  one  of  her  gossips  had  got  into  a  scrape  of  some  sort, 
probably  with  the  redoubtable  village  monarch  himself.  As  I 
passed  the  house  whence  the  sounds  proceeded,  the  door  opened, 
and  a  man,  in  a  dress  no  way  superior  to  that  of  a  peasant,  except 
that  it  was  scrupulously  clean,  came  out.  He  was  evidently  dis- 
pleased at  something ;  close  to  him  came  an  old  woman  in  tears, 
who  seemed  to  be  deprecating  his  wrath,  and  after  her  walked  a 
young  man,  who  held  out  his  hand  to  the  departing  visitor,  with  the 
words,  * '  You  are  perfectly  right,  Master  Schulze ;  I  had  warned 
mother  often  enough,"  pronounced  in  a  hearty  tone. 

"Well,  well,"  returned  the  Schulze,  with  a  kind  of  authorita- 
tive kindness,  "  for  this  once,  I  will  overlook  it." 

The  old  woman  reiterated  her  assurances  that  the  subject  of 
complaint,  whatever  it  might  be,  should  not  again  occur,  and  the 
village  despot  walked  off.  He  took  the  same  path  that  had  been 
pointed  out  to  me  as  the  nearest  to  the  inn  I  was  in  search  of.  I 
quickened  my  pace.  I  had  a  curiosity  to  see  the  face  of  the  griping 
millionaire  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  much  in  so  short  a  time ;  yet  I 
could  not  say  why  I  should  have  any  desire  to  see  more  of  a  man, 
to  whose  advantage  so  little  could  be  said  by  those  who  knew  him 
best.  He  went  on  so  quickly  that  I  should  not  have  easily  over- 
taken him,  if  he  had  not  stopped  again  to  speak  to  some  countrymen 
coming  from  the  village.  "We  exchanged  salutations  as  I  came  up, 
and  he  gave  me  the  "pas"  civilly  enough,  and  that  was  enough  to 
begin  a  conversation.  It  turned  naturally  enough  upon  the  fruit- 
fulness  of  the  surrounding  country.  His  manner  was  perfectly  unas- 
suming, but  very  decided,  and  his  expressions  betrayed  a  degree 
of  cultivation  greatly  beyond  what  might  have  been  expected  from 
his  rustic  appearance.  As  to  the  land,  he  asserted  roundly  that  it 
was 'neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  other  land  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  with  which  I  had  instituted  a  comparison  greatly  to  the 
advantage  of  the  former ;  the  only  difference  he  would  admit  was 
the  better  cultivation.  "  That  very  circumstance,"  I  said,  "was 
worthy  all  my  admiration  !  " 

"Every  proprietor  lives  here  in  the  midst  of  his  own  land," 
said  the  Schulze,  "and  thus  it  is  the  easier  to  overlook  and  culti- 
vate it." 

"  But  this  rich  pasturage,"  said  I — . 

"  You  have  not,  perhaps,  observed,  that  all  the  meadows  lie 
together  and  are  well  irrigated.  We  have  also  fine  marl  in  the 
neighborhood.  So  they  have,  or  might  have,  in  the  other  placea 
of  which  you  spoke  just  now ;  but  the  people  are  idle  and  ignorant. 


46  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

Nature  is  always  a  kind  mother,  but  men  do  not  always  give  them- 
selves the  trouble  to  understand  her  language ;  they  prefer  their  own 
darkness  to  her  light."  This  remark  was  somewhat  too  philosophi- 
cal for  a  village  schoolmaster  or  Schulze.  I  turned  to  look  again  at 
my  companion  in  his  rustic  tunic  and  coarse  straw  hat ;  there  was,  I 
thought,  something  beyond  his  condition  in  his  countenance,  —  I 
might  almost  say  noble.  I  fancied,  moreover,  that  the  features 
were  familiar  to  me.  The  Schulze  returned  my  gaze  with  a  pen- 
etrating look.  "Are  you  not,"  said  he  at  length,  " Adolphe  Von 
Eodern?" 

*'  Von  Rodern  is  my  name,"  still  unable  to  identify  the  person 
before  me. 

He  laughed,  and  held  out  his  hand.     "  What,  my  slender  friend, 

once  the  delight  of  every  bright  eye  in ? "     I  attempted  to 

withdraw  my  hand,  for  I  took  it  into  my  head  that  my  new  acquaint- 
ance was  hoaxing  me ;  but  he  held  it  fast,  and  went  on  — "  The 
world  goes  well  with  you ;  why,  what  a  broad-shouldered,  portly- 
looking  young  man  you  are  become !  And  what  good  wind  has 
blown  you  hither  from  the  golden  middle  path  you  love  so  well, 
to  such  a  by-way  as  the  road  to  Hard  ?  I  bid  you  heartUy  welcome, 
however,  since  you  came.     What,  do  you  not  know  me  yet  ?  " 

I  stood  looking  stupid  enough,  I  believe.  I  could  not  for  my  life 
recollect  where  I  had  seen  the  speaker.  Suddenly  a  ray  of  light 
flashed  on  my  mind.  Was  it  —  could  it  be  my  university  friend, 
Engelbert  ? 

"  Engelbert  it  is,  and  no  other."  I  was  deeply  moved ;  the 
golden  days  of  my  youth  returned  in  a  moment.  I  returned  his 
embrace  heartily,  and  forgot  in  a  moment  all  the  ill  that  had  been 
spoken  of  him.  He  called  a  boy  from  a  neighboring  field,  and  bade 
him  run  directly  to  his  wife.  "  Say  that  I  have  found  a  brother," 
said  he ;  "  tell  her  to  have  the  breakfast  carried  under  the  lime  trees. 
We  will  join  her  directly." 

I  was  called  upon  immediately  for  a  sketch  of  my  life  since  we 
had  parted  at  Inbingen,  the  cause  of  my  present  journey,  and  my 
visit  to  Hard.  The  story  of  many  of  our  former  mutual  friends 
came  in  episodically ;  and,  among  others.  Morn's,  you  may  be  sure, 
was  not  forgotten.  "And  now  for  yourself,  my  friend,"  said  I,  at 
length ;  "  it  is  your  turn  now." 

"  I,"  replied  Engelbert,  laughing ;  "  you  may  satisfy  yourself — 
look  at  me.  I  am  what  I  look  like  —  a  peasant,  and  also  Schulae 
of  this  village." 

"  But,  you  strangest  of  beings !  how  came  you  so  ^    Why,  with 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  47 

your  fine  talents  and  abundant  knowledge,  do  I  find  you  buried  in 
this  remote  nook  of  earth  ?     Can  it  be  your  free  choice  ? " 

"  My  free  choice ! "  —  "  And  how  long  have  you  lived  here  ? "  — 
"  Nineteen  years,  and  most  happily."  —  "  Well,  but  explain  your- 
self a  little." 

"  Another  time ;  come  to  breakfast  now.  My  wife  and  family 
will  be  waiting  for  us." 

We  went  on  a  little  further,  and  a  sudden  turn  of  the  path 
brought  us  to  the  lime  trees,  under  the  shade  of  which  sat  a  beau- 
tiful woman  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  in  a  rustic  dress,  with 
an  infant  on  her  lap.  At  her  feet  sat  another,  under  two  years  of 
age,  to  whom  a  rosy-cheeked,  golden-haired  brother  was  bringing 
flowers.  Two  elder  boys,  apparently  between  the  ages  of  seven 
and  twelve,  were  standing  near  their  lovely  mother,  with  books  in 
their  hands,  and  their  great  blue  eyes  fixed  on  me  with  curiosity. 
Their  dress  was  like  their  father's,  and  in  no  way  difiering,  either 
in  form  or  material,  from  that  of  peasants.  The  Schulze  presented 
me  to  his  wife,  over  whose  delicate  features  a  gentle  blush  passed 
as  she  returned  my  salutation.  I  was  speedily  acquainted  with  the 
whole  charming  group.  The  children  lay  on  the  grass,  round  a  large, 
exquisitely  clean,  wooden  vessel  full  of  milk,  which,  with  the  ordi- 
nary black  bread,  formed  their  breakfast.  White  bread  and  newly 
churned  fresh  butter  were  brought  for  me,  with  a  flask  of  old 
Burgundy.  "  I  know  of  old  your  hostility  to  milk  breakfasts," 
said  Engelbert.  It  seemed  to  me  like  a  dream ;  the  sight  of  this 
really  picturesque  group,  and  the  extraordinary  rencontre  with 
Engelbert  as  a  peasant  —  he  who  had  been  admitted  to  be  the  best 
endowed  by  nature,  the  richest  in  acquired  knowledge  amongst  our 
whole  circle  at  the  university !  Somewhat  eccentric  he  had  always 
been  considered,  but  his  singularities  had  been  excused  as  the  harm 
less  freaks  of  a  young,  inexperienced,  and  enthusiastic  head.  But 
that  such  a  one,  destined  by  nature  and  fortune  for  the  most  splendid 
career,  should  end  in  becoming  a  village  schoolmaster  and  Schulze 
—  who,  in  Heaven's  name,  could  ever  have  expected  this  ? 

His  Augusta  —  so  he  called  his  wife  —  his  children,  were  evi- 
dently most  fondly  attached  to  him,  as  he  was  to  them.  How  could 
this  man  be  so  selfish,  so  grasping,  so  hard-hearted  as  he  had  been 
painted  to  me  ?  And  yet  the  wealth  he  was  said  to  possess  awak 
ened  my  suspicions ;  it  had  been  well  known,  at  the  university,  that 
his  family  was  very  moderately  endowed  with  the  goods  of  fortune ; 
and  then  how  did  this  opulence  tally  with  the  simplicity,  not  to  say 
parsimony,  exhibited  in  the  dress  and  style  of  living  of  his  family  ? 
A  miser  he  must  certainly  be.     I  resolved  to  lengthen  my  stay,  and 


48  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

examine  my  man  a  little  closer.     After  breakfast,  "we  continued  our 
walk  up  the  hill. 

"  I  cannot  lodge  you  under  my  humble  roof,"  said  Engelbert 
"  for  I  have  no  spare  room.  But  you  will  find  everything  you  can 
want  in  the  inn.  I  have  established  baths  there  over  the  sulphur 
springs,  and  you  may  take  your  choice  of  the  rooms,  as  the  season 
has  not  yet  begun.     No  visitors  will  be  here  before  next  month." 


THE   HOUSEHOLD. 


The  wheelwright  had  already  my  carriage,  and  the  surgeon  my 
servant,  in  their  hands.  The  mechanic  undertook  the  speedy  reno- 
vation of  the  chaise,  for  a  hint  from  the  all-powerful  Schulze  sufficed 
to  make  him  lay  all  other  work  aside.  The  surgeon  had  put  Kunz's 
arm  in  its  place  again,  but  it  was  excessively  swollen,  and  at  least 
a  week's  quiet  was  pronounced  necessary  for  him.  As  far  as  I  was 
personally  concerned,  I  was  well  pleased  with  the  delay.  Engelbert 
and  his  family  were  well  worthy  of  a  visit  on  purpose. 

Everything  about  this  humorist  interested  me  the  more,  because 
I  was  every  hour  more  thoroughly  convinced  that  to  few  mortals , 
was  assigned  so  large  a  portion  of  pure  happiness  as  to  him.  His 
house,  like  that  of  every  other  peasant,  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  well- 
ordered  flower  and  kitchen  garden.  Within  reigned  the  strictest 
cleanliness,  and  not  simplicity  alone,  but  downright  poverty.  The 
sitting-room  for  the  whole  family  contained -but  chairs  and  tables  of 
the  plainest  kind,  a  wooden  clock,  and  a  small  looking-glass.  Engel- 
bert himself,  his  wife,  and  children,  slept  on  mattresses  stuffed  with 
leaves  and  moss.  The  house  linen  was  coarse,  but  of  a  dazzling  white- 
ness. The  table  service  might  have  been  used  in  a  convent  of  Capu- 
chins. When  I  insisted  one  day  upon  dining  with  the  family,  they 
bade  me  welcome,  laughing,  and  warned  me  that  my  fare  would  not 
be  sumptuous.  The  soup  was  excellent.  We  had  one  dish  of  roast 
meat,  and  abundance  of  vegetables,  young,  and  well-cooked.  The 
bread  was  common  black  bread ;  the  only  drink  a  kind  of  thin  beer 
or  water ;  and  this  was  the  whole  fare.  And  yet  I  thought  I  had 
never  dined  so  well.  The  charming  mother,  surrounded  by  the  five 
cherub  heads ;  Engelbert,  with  his  playful  wisdom,  —  the  heartfelt 
happiness  of  all  made  a  deep  impression  on  me.  I  confess  I  thought 
myself  in  heaven,  and  felt  provoked  when  Engelbert  made  himself 
merry  with  what  he  was  pleased  to  call  my  sufferings  as  a  town 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  49 

gouiinand  at  his  rustic  table.  The  only  expense  in  the  house  was 
in  Engelbert's  study.  There  he  had  a  small,  but  choice  collection 
of  books,  maps  in  abundance,  an  electrifying  machine,  an  air-pump, 
and  other  instruments  of  physical  science.  The  study  was  also 
the  school-room  of  the  children,  and  Augusta's  boudoir,  for  here 
stood  her  piano,  and  in  some  of  the  empty  drawers  of  her  husband's 
cabinet  she  kept  some  finer  articles  of  dress. 

"  Admirable  ! "  said  I.  "  But  your  family  will  outgrow  your 
play-room,  my  dear  Engelbert.     You  must  think  of  extending  it." 

"  Not  before  ten  years,"  returned  he.  "  The  temple  of  our  hap- 
piness is  small,  but  our  happiness  itself  is  great.  We  have  more 
than  room  enou2;h." 

"  You  are  really  and  truly  happy  in  these  relations  ? " 

"  Look  at  these !  "  said  Engelbert,  pointing  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. "  What  joyous  health  in  every  look  and  gesture !  And 
these  noble  forms  are  animated  by  yet  nobler  souls.  Here  is  my 
kingdom  —  my  republic  —  my  all !  I  enjoy  life  in  reality,  not  in 
appearance,  as  you  do  in  your  city  palaces,  full  of  inconvenient  con- 
veniences, and  your  sickening  and  poverty-stricken  villages.  I  have 
enough  for  the  real  wants  of  life,  and  ample  sphere  of  action  for 
my  mental  powers.  I  live  apart  from  the  splendid  misery  of  a  cor- 
rupt refinement,  but  not  from  the  nobler  humanity.  These  are  the 
great  immortals!  (pointing  to  his  books.)  To  me  lies  open  the 
bosom  of  Nature  —  the  glory  of  God  —  the  way  of  eternity !  What 
more  should  I  ask  or  seek  for  ?  " 

I  pressed  his  hand,  but  with  some  embarrassment,  for  I  knew  not 
well  how  to  answer  him.  I  might  have  said,  you  are  an  enthusiast. 
But  he  was  in  the  right,  and  I  felt  it ;  and  also  that,  in  many  of 
our  social  relations,  we  are  abundantly  absurd,  and  but  too  often  sac- 
rifice the  real  good  of  life  to  our  conventional  notions.  I  might 
have  frankly  admitted,  you  are  in  the  right ;  but  then  I  felt  that 
he  had  wandered  so  widely  from  the  accustomed  path  —  his  ideas 
and  motives  were  so  little  in  harmony  with  the  ideas  and  motives 
of  the  age,  from  and  with  which  I  had  been  and  still  was  acting  — - 
that  a  verbal  acquiescence,  while  it  was  all  I  could  give,  would  be 
of  little  value. 

I  could  not  sufficiently  admire  his  wonderful  activity.  He  farmed 
on  his  own  account,  and  took  not  merely  a  superintending,  but  an 
actual  share  in  the  business  of  the  farm.  His  office  of  justice  gave 
abundant  employment,  one  might  have  thought,  and  yet  it  seemed 
to  be  merely  a  supplementary  one  to  him.  Every  day  he  spent 
some  hours  alone  in  his  study,  and  his  two  elder  boys  received 
instruction  from  him.  These  children  were  taught,  all  they  were 
4 


BO  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES 

taught,  thoroughly.  The  trees  of  the  forest,  the  plants  of  the  gar- 
den, the  geology  of  the  neighborhood,  were  familiar  to  them,  not 
only  in  appearance,  but  in  their  nature  and  properties.  They 
called  them  by  their  scientific  names,  for  they  had  learned  no  others. 
The  prism,  the  magnet,  the  microscope,  were  familiar  to  them  as 
their  ordinary  toys.  The  glorious  map  of  the  heavens  was  open  to 
their  constant  observation,  and  they  had  been  early  rendered  familiar 
with  the  starry  host. 

As  Engelbert  took  upon  himself  the  education  of  the  elder  chil- 
dren and  all  out-door  business,  Augusta  labored  in  the  same  spirit  in 
her  department.  As  well  as  the  usual  household  arrangements,  the 
care  and  direction  of  all  the  land  whose  produce  was  destined  for 
domestic  supply ;  the  corn,  flax,  hemp,  &c. ;  the  management  of  the 
horses,  sheep,  cattle,  goats,  &c.,  belonging  to  the  farm,  were  super- 
intended by  her.  Here  she  was  absolute  sovereign,  and  Engelbert 
laughingly  acknowledged  himself  as  subject. 

"  But,  after  all,  what  I  desire  to  know  is,  how  you  came  here," 
said  I  to  him  one  morning.  "  I  admit  that  all  I  see  is  admirable ; 
yet,  with  your  noble  faculties,  you  might  surely  have  done  your 
country  other  and  larger  service  than  by  becoming  the  Schulze  of  a 
paltry  village." 

He  promised  me  an  answer,  and  one  fine  Sunday  morning,  which 
he  had  promised  to  give  up  to  me  entirely,  he  came  to  fulfil  his 
engagement.  We  went  into  the  garden  of  the  inn,  which  had  been 
laid  out  in  excellent  taste  for  the  visitors  to  the  springs.  The 
breakfast  was  prepared  for  us  in  a  vine-canopied  arbor,  commanding 
a  splendid  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  Some  cofiee  was 
brought  for  me,  but  Engelbert  remained  true  to  his  rustic  fare  — 
milk  and  rye-bread. 

"And  now,"  said  he,  when  we  had  breakfasted,  "I  am  ready  to 
satisfy  your  curiosity.  In  the  mean  time,  Augusta  is  busy  with 
the  children ;  afterwards  we  will  take  a  walk ;  then  we  go  to  church. 
The  pastor,  and  some  few  other  friends,  will  dine  with  us.  In  the 
afternoon,  the  young  people  of  the  village  propose  to  give  you  a 
concert ;  and  in  the  evening  we  shall  have  a  dance  here,  and  you 
must  be  one  of  the  dancers.     And  now  hear  and  edify :  — 

"  I  left  the  university  half  a  year  later  than  you  did,"  contin- 
ued Engelbert.  "  My  guardian  wished  me  to  remain  some  time 
longer,  but  I  put  thirty  louis  d  'ors  in  my  pocket,  and  set  off  on  a 
tour  through  Germany  into  Switzerland ;  thence  I  wandered  into 
France.  From  Provence  I  crossed  the  sea  to  Naples,  and  came 
home  through  Rome  and  Vienna.  Two  louis  d'ors,  out  of  my 
thirty,  I  brought  back  with  me,  for  I  had  travelled  mostly  on  foot 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  51 

lived  chiefly  on  bread  and  water,  with  an  occasional  glass  of  winO; 
and  slept  in  barns  and  outhouses  for  nothing.  I  returned  home 
just  as  my  guardian  was  thinking  of  advertising  me  in  the  news- 
papers. He  was  extremely  displeased  with  my  proceedings,  but  in 
my  own  opinion  I  had  gained  as  much  instruction  in  my  pedestrian 
tour  through  foreign  countries,  as  I  should  have  done  from  the  chair 
of  a  professor.  I  passed  my  examination ;  my  acquirements  were 
extolled,  and  I  obtained  an  appointment  in  the  Woods  and  Forests, 
(without  salary,  however,)  by  way  of  initiating  me  into  public  busi- 
ness. After  the  lapse  of  a  year  I  presented  myself  as  a  candidate 
for  promotion  in  my  line.  My  superiors  eulogized  my  activity,  but 
objected  to  my  age.  I  was  only  just  three-and- twenty.  Good, 
thought  I ;  if  that  be  all,  that  is  a  fault  that  will  mend  every  day. 
In  another  year  I  came  again,  and  modestly  proffered  my  claim  to 
some  Liliputian  office. 

" '  You  have  some  property,  I  understand,  Mr.  Engelbert  ? '  said 
the  President  to  me.  'Why  don't  you  dress  better?  You  are 
really  not  presentable.' 

" '  Your  Excellency,'  I  answered,  'the  State  has  a  right  to  expect 
good  service  from  me,  but  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  clothes.' 

"  His  Excellency  took  my  answer  very  much  amiss,  and  I  was 
dismissed  with  a  cool  bow.  It  happened  about  this  time  that 
there  was  a  dispute  between  our  court  and  a  neighboring  one 
respecting  some  secularized  church  property.  The  right  was  appar- 
ently on  the  side  of  the  adverse  party ;  but  I  had,  by  accident,  dis- 
covered in  the  archives  of  the  Woods  and  Forests  some  documents 
which  must  inevitably  decide  the  cause  in  our  favor.  I  wrote 
thereupon  a  defence  of  the  claim  of  our  court,  printed  it,  together 
with  the  original  document,  and  transmitted  both  to  the  minister 
to  be  laid  before  the  king.  My  production  had  great  success. 
I  received  the  order  of  merit ;  that  is  to  say,  an  ell  of  ribbon  to 
dangle  at  my  button-hole ;  and,  as  I  afterwards  heard,  I  was  looked 
upon  as  a  rising  man.  Unluckily,  I  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
the  ribbon,  and  sent  it  back  again  with  a  respectful  intimation  that 
I  had  written  neither  for  vanity  nor  any  view  to  self-interest,  but 
simply  from  a  love  of  justice ;  and  that  orders  and  ribbons  were 
of  no  use  to  me.  This  brought  down  upon  me  the  whole  army 
of  ribbon  givers  and  takers.  His  Excellency  the  President  of  the 
Woods  and  Forests  told  me  plainly  that  he  took  me  for  a  fool, 
that  the  court  was  highly  displeased,  and  that  advancement  was  not 
to  be  thought  of  from  that  quarter.  About  the  same  time,  I  lost 
my  guardian,  who  committed  suicide  when  I  attained  my  majority. 
The  cause  was  made  manifest  soon  enough.     He  had  spent  not  only 


52  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

his  own  fortune,  but  the  greater  part  of  mine.  Twas  hea\tily  sorry 
for  the  man ;  if  he  had  but  possessed  courage  enough  to  tell  me 
so,  he  might  have  spared  himself:  I  would  have  forgiven  him 
freely.  His  property,  that  is  to  say,  what  remained  of  it,  was 
sold.  Of  mine,  four  thousand  guilders  were  all  that  fell  to  my 
share.  His  only  child,  a  daughter,  was  sent  to  the  orphan  asylum. 
Poor  child,  her  fate  was  a  hard  one  !  I  had  youth  and  health, 
vigor  of  mind  and  body;  I  could  easily  replace  what  I  had  lost. 
I  should  have  blushed  to  visit  the  sins  of  the  father  upon  the 
child.  I  invested  my  four  thousand  guilders,  and  gave  up  the 
interest  for  the  education  of  the  child,  or  for  her  maintenance  till 
she  should  marry.  But,  for  the  orphan-house  I  would  have  none 
of  it.  The  best  orphan  asylum,  like  all  other  institutions  for  edu- 
cation out  of  the  domestic  circle,  is  only  an  institution  for  the  cor- 
ruption of  morals. 

"  The  question  was  now,  what  I  should  do  with  myself?  The  State 
refused  my  services,  because  my  coat  was  not  to  its  liking.  I  shook 
the  dust  from  my  feet,  therefore,  in  my  native  place,  and  left  it  to 
try  and  be  useful  elsewhere.  I  had  kept  money  enough,  according 
to  my  own  view  of  the  matter,  to  maintain  me  till  I  could  find  some 
employment.  While  yet  a  boy  at  school,  I  had  read,  somewhere,  a 
treatise  which  had  made  a  deep  impression  on  me.  The  subject  was 
— '  Of  Unnecessary  Necessities.'  I  had  often  wondered  at  the 
numberless  superfluities  which  men  choose  to  consider  as  necessaries, 
and,  to  procure  which,  they  willingly  became  the  sacrifice  of  others' 
vices  and  their  own  folly.  The  fewer  wants,  the  fewer  desires  a 
man  has,  the  less  are  his  fears  and  vexations,  the  fewer  his  cares. 
The  freest  man  is  he  who  is  least  dependent  on  custom  and  con- 
venience, and,  consequently,  the  least  afiected  by  circumstances. 
The  essay  concluded  with  these  words :  — '  Cleave  to  the  essential 
alone,  and  leave  to  fools  the  melancholy  pleasure  of  appearance.' 
Even  as  a  schoolboy,  I  had  attempted  to  accommodate  myself  to  this 
system.  I  did  my  duty  in  all  things,  and  declined  all  praise  from 
my  masters.  I  often  slept  at  night  upon  chairs  beside  my  bed, 
instead  of  in  it.  I  drank  neither  beer  nor  wine,  tea  nor  cofiee,  but, 
simply,  water.  I  never  spent  a  fifth  part  of  my  pocket  money  on 
the  trifles  on  which  children  are  accustomed  to  waste  their  allowance, 
and  was,  therefore,  often  able  to  assist  those  of  my  school-fellows, 
who  were  poorer  than  myself,  with  real  necessities,  books,  maps, 
and  the  like.  I  was  delighted  to  leave  the  university,  when,  becom 
ing  entirely  my  own  master,  I  could  pursue,  unmolested,  the  plan  1 
had  marked  out  for  myself  The  simplicity  of  my  mode  of  living 
induced  most  of  my  acquaintances  to  esteem  me  poor.     I  was  far 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  53 


richer  than  the  greater  part  of  them  with  double  my  income,  for  T 
wanted  nothing,  and  owed  nothing ;  —  many  of  those  who  pitied  or 
blamed  me  set  no  limits  to  their  wishes,  and  were  deeply  in  debt. 

"  My  views  of  life,  however,  gave  prodigious  oifence  in  my  native 
city ;  but  I  could  not  see  why  I  should  fare  sumptuously,  or  lie 
softly,  to  please  others,  when  I  could  please  myself  at  far  less  cost. 
My  dress  was  neat,  and  not  oict  of  the  fashion,  but  I  did  not  partic- 
ularly distinguish  myself  by  the  fineness  of  my  linen,  or  employ  the 
most  fashionable  tailor,  and,  therefore,  I  was  held  unpresentable  in 
good  society.  I  did  my  duty  in  my  vocation ;  but  I  never  went 
to  '  pay  my  respects '  to  my  superiors,  and  my  manners  were  pro- 
nounced excessively  unpolished.  I  wished- to  be  valued  in  society 
for  my  talents,  natural  or  acquired,  and  my  moral  worth ;  —  the 
well-judging  public  insisted  upon  fine  clothes,  flattery,  and  what  it  is 
pleased  to  call  respect  for  appearances.  I  did  not  smoke ;  I  did 
not  play  at  cards ;  and  frequented  places  of  public  amusement  but 
little ;  —  that  was  called  an  '  affectation  of  singularity.'  My  dis- 
favor with  society  grieved  me  but  little,  however ;  I  lived  and  acted 
according  to  my  own  convictions,  was  content  with  moderate  means, 
had  the  power  of  helping  many  with  my  superfluity,  was  always 
cheerful,  and  never  sick.  All  that  was  wanting  to  my  happiness 
was  the  means  of  becoming  more  extensively  useful.  I  could  do 
without  the  suffrage  of  the  world.  Woe  to  him  whose  felicity 
depends  on  others,  if  he  cannot  find  it  in  serving  them  without 
expecting  their  applause  '  " 


THE   VILLAGE    SCHOOLMASTER. 

"  I  SPENT  the  better  part  of  a  year  in  rambling  about  this  blessed 
Germany  of  ours  without  finding  anywhere  a  suitable  sphere  of 
action.  Every  application  for  fitting  employment  was  met  with  a 
'  but.'  It  is  silly  enough  of  tlie  people,  thought  I,  that  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  a  man  who  asks  no  more  than  the  means  of  mak- 
ing himself  useful  to  the  best  of  his  ability !  I  had  before  pro- 
jected a  journey  to  London,  to  offer  my  services  to  explore  the  inte- 
rior of  Africa  for  the  benefit  of  the  world  and  of  science ;  and,  if 
they  were  not  then  accepted,  to  visit  that  part  of  the  world  on  my 
own  account.  No  sooner  thought  than  done ;  I  turned  my  face  to 
the  north-west. 

"  One  evening,  I  entered  the  inn  of  a  little  town  in  my  way,  much 


54  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

fatigued.  While  my  supper  was  preparing,  I  took  up  a  provincial 
'  Intelligencer,'  in  which  I  saw  an  advertisement  for  a  village 
schoolmaster ;  the  salary  was  fifty  guilders,  with  a  house,  firing,  and 
the  use  of  three  acres  of  land.  It  struck  me  directly  that  this  was 
the  very  thing  for  me.  A  village  schoolmaster !  The  calling  gen- 
erally esteemed  so  humble,  is,  in  fact,  one  of  the  very  highest  impor- 
tance. I  might  become  the  reformer  of  a  whole  village,  the  saviour 
of  a  thousand  unhappy  and  neglected  human  beings.  To  how  many 
important  politico-economical,  moral,  religious,  and  patriotic  points 
of  view  might  I  not  pave  the  way  for  improvement  ?  .  Poor  as 
the  remuneration  was,  it  was  sufficient  for  me.  Real  service,  in 
fact,  can  never  be  paid  for.  How  can  virtues  of  any  kind  be 
rewarded  by  the  State  ?  State  remuneration  can  only  be  meas- 
ured by  the  greater  or  less  expenditure  of  knowledge  and  activ- 
ity required.  For  a  village  schoolmastership  it  is  held  that  very 
little  knowledge  or  labor  is  wanting ;  it  is  a  low  kind  of  thing  alto- 
gether ;  hence  the  pecuniary  recompense  is  paltry.  But,  for  a  mas- 
ter of  the  ceremonies,  or  a  court  chamberlain,  indeed,  most  uncommon 
talents  and  virtues  are  demanded  ;  and  that  is,  no  doubt,  the  reason 
why  more  is  paid  for  such  articles  than  for  village  schoolmasters 
throughout  the  kingdom. 

"  I  went  and  ofiered  myself  as  a  candidate  for  the  vacant  office. 
The  testimonials  of  ability  I  brought  with  me  were  examined,  and  I 
found  I  had  the  honor  to  be  taken  for  a  runavray  student ;  that 
did  not  concern  me  very  greatly.  Against  my  capabilities  in  read- 
ing, writing,  arithmetic,  and  singing,  there  was  nothing  to  be  said, 
and  yet  the  authorities  hesitated.  Nor  was  I  greatly  surprised 
that  they  did ;  for  it  is  not  very  usual  for  a  man,  who,  upon  occa- 
sion, could  read  and  speak  his  six  languages,  to  become  a  village 
schoolmaster.  I  doubt  if,  after  all,  I  should  have  obtained  the 
place,  had  there  been  any  other  candidates  but  myself  and  a  deaf 
tailor. 

"  My  sound  ears  had  the  preference. 

" '  Hark  you,  friend,'  said  the  Examiner  and  President  of  the 
High  Provincial  School  Commission  ;  '  3'ou  shall  have  the  place, 
but,  understand,  provisionally,  for  one  year,  in  the  course  of  which 
we  shall  see  if  your  moral  conduct  is  approved  of.' 

"  My  letter  of  provincial  installation  was  duly  delivered  to  me,  and 
with  it  a  letter  to  the  most  reverend  Pastor  Pflock,  in  Hard,  who 
was  to  induct  me  into  my  office. 

"  I  was  as  happy  as  a  king  —  assuming  that  kings  are  in  general 
happier  than  village  schoolmasters.  My  dwelling  in  Hard  was  a 
ruinous  barrack,  as  dirty  as  an  uncleansed  stable ;  evei7  window 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  55 

patched  with  paper,  and  my  sitting-room  a  gloomy  den  without  a 
stove.  The  only  stove  in  the  place  was  in  the  school-room,  which 
was  to  be  tenanted  every  day  by  me  and  sixty-five  children  of  both 
sexes.  The  garden  was  impassable  from  rubbish ;  the  three  acres 
of  land  oflFered  a  complete  Flora  Hardinensis  ;  not  a  wild  flower  or 
weed  growing  in  the  whole  country  round  but  had  its  specimen  there. 
Heavens  !  here  was  room  and  verge  enough  for  the  spirit  of  reform 
to  revel  in. 

'  The  most  reverend  Pastor  Pflock  received  me  with  severe  dig- 
nity ;  gave  me  abundance  of  advice ;  and  presented  me,  the  fol- 
lowing Sunday,  after  service,  to  his  congregation,  with  much 
solemnity,  and  many  sharp  warnings  to  my  juvenile  troop. 

"  Pastor  Pflock  was  esteemed  a  most  zealous  and  orthodox  man, 
who  thundered  every  Sunday  against  infidels  and  dissenters  with 
the  voice  of  a  stentor ;  painted  the  terrors  of  hell  every  fortnight, 
and  the  joys  of  heaven  once  a  month  ;  and,  once  a  quarter,  we  had 
a  vision  of  the  last  judgment.  But,  on  the  week  days,  and  in  com- 
mon life,  he  was  a  common  kind  of  man  enough,  who  was  content  to 
let  the  world  wag  as  it  listed,  and  troubled  his  head  very  little 
about  the  sayings  or  doings  of  his  peasants,  provided  the  due  ofier- 
ings  were  made  to  his  kitchen,  and  he  was  not  forgotten  at  wed- 
ding feasts  and  christenings.  His  flock  was  ignorant,  brutal,  poor, 
and  lazy ;  almost  every  one  was  in  debt ;  their  agriculture  was 
wretched,  their  method  of  rearing  cattle  was  as  bad  as  possible,  and 
their  favorite  amusements  squabbling,  fighting,  and  going  to  law. 
The  only  thriving  person  in  the  village  was  the  Schulze,  who  also 
kept  the  public  house,  and  was  a  diligent  fomenter  of  the  quarrel- 
some and  litigious  propensities  of  his  neighbors,  by  which  he  was 
a  gainer  both  ways.  The  exterior  of  the  village,  the  rows  of  mis- 
erable cottages,  full  of  dirt  and  disorder,  the  coarse,  lumpish 
demeanor  of  the  peasants  and  their  wives,  the  rude  audacity  of 
the  children,  their  ragged  and  dirty  clothing,  all  convinced  me  that 
here  was  my  appointed  sphere  of  usefulness  —  here  was  I  called 
to  labor  in  my  vocation  in  promoting  the  happiness  of  my  fellow- 
men.  I  danced  for  joy  round  the  schoolroom  like  a  fool,  till  tho 
house  shook  again ! 

"  The  poverty  of  the  school  fund  obliged  me  to  make  the  necessary 
repairs  at  my  own  expense,  if  I  would  have  it  done  at  all.  I  had 
the  windows  mended,  and  the  walls  whitewashed,  and  the  floors, 
tables,  benches,  and  doors,  thoroughly  scoured ;  dug  up  my  garden, 
and  planted  it  with  vegetables,  and  set  my  three  acres  in  order 
with  my  own  hands.  I  kept  a  goat  in  the  stable  for  the  milk ;  and 
I  had  common  right  of  pasture  with  the  rest  of  the  village.     I  waa 


56  THB   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

Boon  at  home  in  my  new  abode.  The  reverend  pastor  himself  waa 
not  cleaner  or  more  comfortably  lodged.  The  villagers  stared,  and 
seemed  as  much  surprised  at  my  orderly  poverty  as  I  was  at  their 
nasty  abundance." 


BEGINNING    OF   THE   REFORMATION. 

"As  soon  as  I  had  arranged  my  dwelling  to  my  liking,  I  began 
my  operations  on  the  rising  generation.  They  drove  every  day  in 
and  out  of  the  schoolhouse  like  a  herd  of  swine.  I  began  by  accus- 
toming every  child  to  salute  me  on  entering  by  giving  me  his  hand ; 
and  those  who  came  with  them  dirty  were  dispatched  forthwith  to 
remedy  the  evil  at  the  spring  behind  the  house.  Hands  and  feet  I 
required  to  be  clean  as  the  face.  Yery  few  seemed  to  have  any 
acquaintance  with  the  comb.  I  desired  they  should  all  be  combed 
smooth  before  they  came,  and  the  little  savages  laughed  in  my  face. 
The  laughing  I  soon  settled  with  the  cane.  I  entreated  the  assist- 
ance of  the  pastor,  and  begged  him  to  preach  to  his  flock  on  the  uses 
of  cleanliness.  His  reverence  opened  his  eyes  wider  than  usual  — 
*  What  has  that  to  do  with  religion,  schoolmaster  ?  Be  so  good  as 
to  mind  your  own  business.'  However,  with  the  assistance  of  the 
stick,  I  accomplished  the  combing  also.  The  clothing  now  came 
under  consideration.  Here,  nothing  was  to  be  done  by  force.  My 
pupils  were  all  ragged  —  that  I  could  not  help,  but  I  insisted  that 
the  rags  should  be  clean.  I  gave  little  prizes  to  those  who  came  to 
school  clean  for  a  week  together  —  needles,  knitting  needles,  scissors, 
knives,  and  other  trifles,  which  I  bought  by  the  dozen  at  the  neigh- 
boring fairs.  The  whole  village,  including  the  parson  and  the 
Schulze,  sneered  at  my  innovations :  but  I  pursued  my  own  plan 
obstinately. 

"  Human  beings  must  be  unhrutijied  before  they  can  be  educated. 
With  the  help  of  these  small  rewards,  I  produced  a  very  considera- 
ble improvement  in  the  course  of  a  year  among  the  youth  of  the  vil- 
lage ;  and  here  and  there  a  few  of  the  elders  began  to  feel  some 
shame  when  the  children  themselves  began  to  notice  their  dirty 
habits.  As  I  passed  through  the  village  or  fields,  the  little  ones 
would  leave  their  play,  and  come  to  greet  me  with  a  smile,  and 
ofier  their  hands.  They  all  liked  me ;  they  were  afraid  of  my  cane, 
pleased  with  my  presents,  and  delighted  to  listen  to  the  stories  which 
I  sometimes  related  to  them. 


THE   TTVO    MILLIONAIRES.  0/ 

"  My  liberalities  made  a  wonderful  talk  in  the  vdllage.  In  the  first 
year  I  had  really  spent  more  than  I  received.  Two  of  the  poorest, 
halt  naked  children,  I  had  clothed  anew  at  my  own  cost,  and  these 
proceedings  puzzled  the  good  people  extremely.  A  village  school- 
master was  generally  the  jx)orest  where  all  were  poor ;  no  man  who 
possessed  any  property  of  his  own,  however  small,  would  take  such 
an  office.  Instead,  like  my  predecessors,  of  accepting  presents,  or 
rather  alms,  from  the  parents  of  the  scholars,  I  gave  away  more  than 
any  one  else.  No  one  knew  what  to  make  of  me.  Some  were  of 
opinion  that  I  was  a  fugitive  from  justice,  a  cash-keeper  who  had 
run  away  with  his  master's  money,  or  something  of  that  sort.  It 
was  a  matter  of  course,  that  people,  who  rarely  did  or  thought  any 
good  themselves,  should  think  no  better  of  me.  The  pastor,  how- 
ever, gave  a  good  character  of  me  to  the  provincial  school  commis- 
sion, though  not  without  adding  some  strictui-es  on  the  system  of 
giving  rewards  to  scholars.  But,  as  giving  is  not  so  positively  for- 
bidden by  the  law  as  taking,  I  was  confirmed  in  my  office  of  school- 
master for  life." 


PROGRESS   OF   THE   REFORMATION. 

"  As  soon  as  I  was  assured  of  my  dignity,  I  lightened  my  task  by 
dividing  the  school  into  classes,  and  making  the  elder  pupils  assist 
in  teaching  the  younger,  and  by  this  method  brought  them  all  for- 
ward more  quickly.  For  the  poorest  girls,  I  bought  wool  and  knit- 
ting-needles, taught  them  to  make  use  of  them,  and  gave  them  what 
they  made  for  their  own  property.  This  piqued  the  parents  who 
were  in  better  circumstances  —  their  daughters  should  be  no  worse 
oif  than  their  companions ;  the  knitting  became  general,  and  in  time 
was  followed  by  sewing.  A  poor  woman  in  the  village,  with  whcra 
I  divided  my  salary,  undertook  the  instruction  of  the  girls  in  needle- 
work. In  the  space  of  a  year,  not  only  the  dirty,  but  the  torn 
gowns  and  jackets  had  nearly  vanished  from  my  schoolroom.  In 
some  few,  indeed,  the  love  of  dirt  and  disorder  seemed  irradicable 
like  other  diseases,  it  ran  in  the  blood,  and  descended  from  genera 
tion  to  generation. 

"  While  the  girls  were  making  these  advances  in  civilization,  their 
male  associates  were  not  behindhand.  Reading,  writing,  and  arith- 
metic, were  diligently  pursued,  and  the  diligence  was  rewarded  by 
the  relation  of  stories  of  various  kinds.     It  is  incredible  with  what 


58  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIREa. 

eagerness  they  would  throng  round  me,  when,  on  a  holiday  or  Sun- 
day afternoon,  I  took  my  seat  in  the  fields,  or  woods,  for  this  pur- 
pose. Every  other  amusement  was  readily  forsaken  for  this  ;  and 
many,  even,  of  the  grown-up  lads,  who  had  ceased  to  attend  the 
school,  never  failed  to  join  their  younger  companions  on  these  occa- 
sions. Sometimes  I  gave  them  a  lesson  in  natural  philosophy,  or 
history,  in  geography,  or  a  moral  lecture ;  but  always  in  the  form 
of  a  story.  The  young  people  thought  they  were  only  amused, 
while  I  was  gradually  undermining  their  prejudices,  awaking  their 
moral  sense,  and  enlarging  their  views  of  the  world. 

"  I  had  not  less  satisfaction  in  the  singing  lessons  which  it  was  my 
duty,  as  schoolmaster,  to  give.  I  had  some  excellent  voices  among 
my  scholars,  and  the  yicar  choral  of  a  neighboring  town  assisted  mo 
with  notes  and  exercises.  My  young  flock  got  on  exceedingly  well ; 
but  to  amend  the  church  singing,  where  the  elders  were  concerned, 
was  more  than  I  could  accomplish.  The  whole  strength  of  their 
lungs  was  brought  into  play  upon  all  occasions ;  they  seemed  to 
make  a  conscience  of  never  sparing  them.  I  presumed  to  direct  the 
attention  of  Pastor  Pflock  to  this  subject,  and  asked  him  to  use  his 
influence  with  his  worthy  congregation  that  they  should  not  bellow 
so  unmercifully. 

" '  Eh  !  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ? '  said  the  pastor.  '  I  let 
every  one  give  free  course  to  his  devotional  feelings ;  let  them  cry 
aloud,  and  spare  not.  Lukewarm  singing,  lukewarm  Christianity, 
in  my  opinion.' 

"Apparently  he  had  communicated  my  ridiculous,  my  unchristian 
censure,  as  he  called  it,  to  his  whole  flock ;  for  I  soon  remarked 
that  they  roared  more  pitilessly  than  ever,  and  came  out  of  church 
red-hot  with  their  exertions,  and  as  hoarse  as  ravens. 

"  I  found  I  must  be  on  my  guard  with  these  good  people,  with 
whom  I  was  very  evidently  anything  but  popular ;  and,  with  my 
singing,  sewing,  washing,  combing,  and  story-telling,  passed  for  an 
innovating,  mischievous  busy-body.  For  this  judgment,  I  was  not 
a  little  indebted  to  the  pastor,  to  whom  I  was  not  sufficiently  sub- 
missive ;  and  to  the  Schulze  still  more  largely,  because  I  never  spent 
anything  in  his  house,  and  purloined,  as  he  considered  it,  some  of 
his  customers  with  my  Sunday  story-telling. 

"  I  might  have  experienced  more  active  efibrts  of  the  ill-will  of  this 
last  dignitary  and  his  partisans,  had  I  not  been,  in  some  measure, 
defended  from  them  by  the  warm  attachment  of  the  children,  who 
never  failed  to  give  me  warning  in  time  of  any  conspiracy  against 
me.  But  what  contributed  more  than  all  to  keep  me  scathless  from 
thftir  malice,  was  a  kind  of  superstitious  belief  in  my  powers  of 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  59 

mischief — a  belief  which,  being  first  induced  by  the  old  women 
of  the  village,  had  found  ready  admittance  with  all. 

"  They  took  me,  in  short,  for  a  conjurer,  or  something  of  the  kind. 
To  this  wise  conjecture,  my  extraordinary  liberality,  taken  in  con- 
junction with  the  scantiness  of  my  apparent  means,  might  have 
partly  contributed,  and  partly  that  I  had  found  out  and  frustrated 
more  than  one  or  two  spiteful  tricks  intended  to  be  played  on  me. 
It  happened  several  times  that  I  received  a  private  visit  from  one 
or  the  other  individual  whose  cow  gave  bad  milk,  or  who  had  lost 
anything  in  house  or  field,  to  request  that  I  would  cut  the  cards, 
or  make  a  spell  of  some  kind,  to  discover  the  criminal.  It  was  in 
vain  that  I  tried  to  reason  them  out  of  this  preposterous  folly, 
and  refdsed  the  ofiered  money.  They  remained  firm  in  their  faith, 
that  'I  knew  more  than  I  should.'  Even  my  poor  three  acres 
brought  me  under  suspicion,  because,  from  being  the  worst,  they 
were  now  the  best  and  most  productive  in  the  parish.  Although 
every  one  with  their  own  eyes  saw,  or  might  see,  that  the  elder 
lads  helped  me  in  the  cultivation  of  the  land,  and  the  younger  ones 
took  it  by  turns  to  weed  for  me ;  although  I  offered  them  the  plain- 
est and  simplest  rules  to  obtain  a  like  result  with  my  own,  they 
preferred  their  own  solution  of  the  enigma,  '  I  knew  more  than  1 
should,'  '  the  devil  had  a  hand  in  it,'  &c. 

"  I  saw  that  the  elder  part  of  the  population  were  not  to  be  con- 
verted. My  best  hopes  rested  on  their  children,  who  were  in  a 
great  measure  under  my  influence.  I  had  done  much  in  the  course 
of  five  years,  when  a  scandalous  attempt,  on  the  part  of  the  pastor, 
threatened  the  destruction  of  my  plans  of  reformation.  One  day 
the  pastor  sent  for  me,  received  me  with  extraordinary  and  unusual 
civility ;  and,  while  I  was  endeavoring  to  find  out  his  motive  for 
such  an  unexpected  manifestation,  he  surprised  me  by  a  proposal 
to  bestow  on  me  in  marriage  a  young  person  who  lived  in  his  house 
in  some  dependent  capacity.  He  promised  a  good  portion  with  her. 
I  had  no  inclination  to  listen  to  or  repeat  village  scandal,  but  I  could 
not  be  ignorant  that  the  girl's  conduct  was  not  irreproachable,  and 
Pastor  Pflock  knew  it  full  well.  Of  course,  I  gave  a  direct  and 
immediate  refusal ;  perhaps  I  was  somewhat  too  abrupt.  From 
that  time  forward  he  never  preached  a  sermon  without  launching 
forth  into  invectives  against  all  profligate  innovaters  and  '  infidels.' 
If  I  had  had  any  doubt  as  to  whom  these  thunders  were  directed, 
his  looks  would  have  speedily  enlightened  me  and  everybody  else ; 
but  I  despised  them  too  heartily  to  take  any  notice  of  them.  By 
and  by,  I  received  notice  that  complaints  had  been  lodged  against 
me  with  the  School  Commission.     I  was  charged  with  immora] 


60  THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 

conduct ;  I  was  unfit  to  be  trusted  with  the  instruction  of  chil- 
dren. I  demanded  a  hearing ;  I  demanded  the  names  of  my  accus- 
ers, which  could  not  well  be  refused  me ;  and  I  never  rested  till 
the  accusation  and  its  cause  had  been  traced  home  to  Pastor 
Pflock.  The  motives  for  his  extraordinary  proposal  were  clear 
enough,  and  I  succeeded  in  making  them  appear  so  to  the  Com- 
mission. From  bullying,  the  unworthy  pastor  descended  to  suppli- 
cation, that  the  business  might  not  become  generally  known.  It 
transpired,  nevertheless ;  before  many  days  were  over,  everything 
that  had  passed  in  the  justice-room  was  known  to  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  in  Hard.  In  another  quarter  of  a  year  Pastor 
Pflock  was  removed,  and  another,  Pastor  Bode,  replaced  him. 

"  The  latter,  a  pious  and  excellent  man  somewhat  advanced  in  life, 
and  well  acquainted  with  the  world,  without  being  corrupted  by 
time,  supported  me  warmly  in  every  attempt  for  the  improvement 
of  the  people,  and  labored  zealously  in  his  own  calling  for  the  object. 
He  went  from  cottage  to  cottage  to  give  advice,  warning,  help,  and 
consolation.  I  grieve  to  say,  he  reaped  but  a  scanty  harvest  with 
all  his  toil.  His  preaching  was  not  half  so  much  attended  or 
admired  as  Pflock's  had  been ;  the  customary  offerings  to  the  par- 
sonage kitchen  much  scantier.  The  good  people  of  Hard  main- 
tained stoutly  that  Pastor  Bode  '  did  not  preach  the  right  sort  of 
religion ;  he  was  half  an  infidel,  he  did  not  believe  in  hell,'  &c.  &c. 
And  then  they  shook  their  lieads,  and  sighed  for  the  high-seasoned 
homilies  of  Pastor  Pflock,  and  the  discourse  usually  ended  with 
the  ejaculation,  'Ah,  he  was  the  man;  his  was  something  like  ser- 
mons !     Hard  will  not  see  his  like  again  in  a  hurry  ! '  " 


THE    COLONY. 


"About  this  time  a  certain  Baron  Von  Losecke  paid  a  visit  to 
Hard,  on  account  of  some  forest  land  which  he  inherited  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  which  he  wanted  to  dispose  of  again,  as  he  did 
not  mean  to  live  in  this  part  of  the  country.  The  government  had 
declined  the  purchase,  because  wood  was  not  at  all  wanted  here,  and 
there  was  no  navigable  river  to  aid  in  its  disposal  elsewhere.  The 
Baron  next  offered  it  to  the  parish  of  Hard,  as  the  forest  lay  so 
conveniently  at  hand.  But  the  parish  was  poor  and  in  debt ;  it  was 
not  in  any  particular  want  of  wood ;  and,  if  it  were,  preferred  greatly 
utealing  it  from  the  Baron's  forest  to  buying  of  him.     The  offer  was 


THE   TWO   MILLIONAIRES.  61 

, ., i 

refused,  although,  he  would  have  lowered  his  first  demand  of  nine  to 
seven  thousand  guilders.  The  Baron  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  to 
do  with  his  new  acquisition,  and  went  to  ask  advice  of  Pastor 
Bode,  who  referred  him  to  me  as  the  person  in  Hard  most  likely 
to  give  him  proper  counsel.  He  came,  and  the  thought  suddenly 
occurred  to  me  to  buy  the  wood  myself.  My  plan  was  ready  in 
a  few  moments.  I  could  not  be  a  loser.  The  Baron  swore  at 
the  Avhole  business ;  he  wanted,  above  all  things,  to  be  rid  of  the 
trouble,  and  at  last  declared  that  if  I  could  find  him  a  purchaser, 
he  should  have  the  wood  for  six  thousand.  I  told  him,  at  once, 
that  I  would  buy  it  myself  if  he  would  accept  the  half  in  ready 
money,  and  allow  me  reasonable  time  to  pay  the  other  half,  with 
a  moderate  rate  of  interest.  He  stared,  first  at  me,  and  then  at 
my  naked  school-room ;  but  people  soon  come  to  an  understanding 
when  both  parties  mean  to  do  so.  The  bargain  was  soon  struck, 
and  the  necessary  instruments  drawn  up.  I  drew  my  outstanding 
capital  of  four  thousand  guilders  from  my  native  city,  paid  out  of 
my  pocket  a  yearly  sum  equivalent  to  the  interest  of  it,  which,  if 
you  remember,  I  had  destined  for  the  support  of  my  guardian's 
daughter,  and  the  Baron  received  the  promised  moiety  immedi- 
ately. 

"  The  whole  village  was  up  in  arms  at  the  news  of  my  purchase. 
No  doubt  I  was  supposed  to  have  found  the  philosopher's  stone.  I 
was  laughed  at  for  my  folly,  nevertheless,  and  many  rejoiced  before- 
hand in  the  expectation  that  I  had  certainly  overreached  myself  in 
my  bargain. 

"  The  laughter  did  not  very  greatly  disturb  my  equanimity.  I 
hired  wood-cutters,  and  a  few  experienced  makers  of  potash,  bought 
tubs  and  caldrons,  built  furnaces  for  the  calcining,  and  trans- 
formed the  fine  beech  wood  into  potash.  My  projects  extended 
themselves.  One  of  my  best  friends  in  the  village  was  a  young 
man  named  Lebrecht,  an  active,  intelligent  fellow,  who  had  often 
assisted  me  in  the  school.  I  now  made  it  over  to  him  entirely  with 
the  income  such  as  it  was,  and  procured  a  ratification  of  the  appoint- 
ment from  the  commission.  The  only  share  I  retained  was  the 
story-telling  lesson,  as  it  might  be  called.  The  school-house  I  gave 
up  entirely  to  my  successor,  and  built  a  temporary  abode  in  the  for- 
est, to  be  near  my  workmen.  I  had  cottages  built  for  them  also, 
which  could  be  tenanted  in  the  winter ;  and  thus  commenced  a 
new  mode  of  life,  pretty  much  like  that  of  a  settler  in  the  back 
woods  of  America.  The  Harders  shook  their  heads  at  my  foolish 
undertaking,  while  one  acre  after  another  was  changed  into  pot- 
ash.    In  a  year  some  hundreds  of  acres  were  cleared.     My  potash 


62  TUB   TWO    MILLI0NAIUE8. 

found  a  rapid  sale,  and  thii«  the  old,  iinponctraljlc  iKiech  f'rest, 
Bnugly  packed  in  barrels,  wandered  U)  all  parts  of  the  world.  The 
hxW  of  the  produce  was  more  than  Bufficietit  to  pay  the  remainder 
of  the  purchase  money ;  the  J>aron  was  paid  swner  than  I  expected, 
and  I  had  beside  some  capital  in  hand,  and  the  land.  I  now  set 
to  work  upon  a  more  substantial  dwelling  for  myself,  with  barns 
and  outhouses,  I  bou;^ht  cattle,  laid  out  the  land  in  pasture  and 
arable  land,  and  so  turned  farmer,  ;is  well  as  potash-maker.  In 
draining  some  part  of  the  meadows,  I  discovered  a  spring.  In 
testing  its  fitness  for  domest.ic  purposes,  I  found  it  U)  be  inineral. 
There  is  no  other  in  all  the  country  round.  A  new  plan  was  quickly 
formed.  I  built  this  house  for  the  reception  of  visitor/^,  and  adver- 
tised the  healing  proi)ertie8  of  the  spring  in  all  the  newspapers. 
It  succeeded  beyond  all  my  ex[»ectations ;  the  visitors  were  so 
numerous,  that,  in  a  ^cw  years,  I  was  obligefl  to  add  wings  to  the 
bathing-house.  My  capital  yielded  me  a  liigh  intenjst.  I  [K)r- 
tioned  off  more  than  three  hundred  acres  into  smull  farms,  and 
built  houses  Uf)on  them,  for  which  I  had  lime,  sand,  and  wood  gratis, 
and  every  hoitse  had  its  tenant  ready  as  soon  as  it  was  finished.  I 
chose,  in  preference  to  all  others,  skilful  artisans,  who  were  either 
wanted  by  the  water-drinking  guests,  or  were  not  easily  found  in 
the  neighlx)rhoc>d.  I  took  care  that  the  leases  should  })e  sufficiently 
advantag(;ous  to  the  tenant,  to  give  him  a  real  interest  in  the  suc- 
cess of  my  c^jlony.  I  was  law-giver,  as  well  as  landlord,  and  my 
indulgence  on  some  points,  and  inexorable  severity  on  others,  where 
the  integrity  of  my  colonists  was  concerned,  were  so  well  known, 
that  my  regulations  were  submitted  to  without  hesitation.  Look 
behind  you,  dear  lloden,  at  those  buildings,  fourteen  in  number, 
which  stand  on  the  rising  ground  by  the  side  of  the  forest.  That 
is  my  colony." 


THE    NEW    DIGNITY. 


'  Amono  the  yearly  visitors  to  the  waters,  some  of  the  authorities 
of  the  land  were  occasionally  to  be  found,  to  whom  I  became  known. 
Had  I  been  dreased  like  one  of  themselves,  my  acquirements  would 
certainly  have  raised  no  astonishment,  but  in  one  clothed  in  tho 
coarse  garments  of  a  peasant,  they  were  esteemed  something  won- 
derful. I  passed,  moreover,  for  an  opulent  man,  and  these  two  cir- 
cumstances procured  my  appointment  as  Schulze  in  Hard,  on  the 


THE   TVrO    MILLIONAIttES.  63 

death  of  the  old  one,  in  spite  of  all  the  ancient  inhabitants  could 
Bay  against  it.  My  new  dignity  gave  me  as  much  joy,  as,  under 
other  relations,  the  f)0st  of  Prime  Minister  could  have  done.  I 
was  now  in  the  position  I  had  long  desired,  and  my  sphere  of 
action  exactly  what  I  wished  it  to  be.  I  wa.s  no  stranger  to  the 
ingratitude  of  the  Ilardcrs,  but  what  else  was  to  1)0  exf)ected  from 
a  people  so  poverty-striclcen,  ignorant,  lazy,  and  stupid  ?  1  must 
humanize  them  before  I  could  look  lor  humaner  and  nobler  feelings 
from  them. 

"  I  immediately  began  to  work  out  my  projects.  Pastor  Bode  and 
the  schoolmaster  Lobrecht  were  zealous  cooperators.  Even  aa 
Schulze,  I  continued  my  narrative  lessons  to  the  youth  of  the  vil- 
lage. It  was  too  powerful  an  engine  in  my  scheme  of  moral  refor- 
mation to  be  neglected.  Eight  years'  experience  had  rendered  me 
familiar  with  the  chief  sources  of  mischief  in  Hard,  and  I  luistencd 
to  destroy  them.  One  of  the  greatest  was  the  litigious  spirit  of  the 
people.  They  went  to  law  about  everything.  I  took  ufX)n  myself 
to  be  an  attorney,  in  defiance  of  the  attorneys,  and  examined  those 
local  regulations,  which  most  nearly  concerned  my  peasants,  and 
were  most  fertile  in  stuff  for  lawsuits.  A  good  many  1  put  an 
end  to  by  amicable  arrangement,  and  the  numlxir  of  my  clients 
increased  daily.  My  office  enabled  me  continually  to  detect  and 
frustrate  the  artifices  by  which  provincial  advocates  often  fermented 
and  kept  alive  the  foolish  squabbles  of  the  poor  ignorant  people  for 
their  own  advantage.  This  alone  was  an  immeasurable  advantage 
for  the  village.  In  the  midst  of  all  these  official  lalx)rs,  something 
occurred  to  me  of  which  I  had  certainly  often  thought,  but  never 
before  felt  —  something  which  turned  my  head  for  a  time,  and  put 
an  effectual  aUyp  to  my  reformation. 

"  One  day  I  drove  a  wagon  myself  with  a  freight  of  potash  to 
Berg,  a  market  town  alwut  twelve  miles  from  Hard,  and  where  my 
agent  for  the  wde  of  it  lived.  In  the  wagon  I  had  also  a  sack  of 
beans,  which  fell  from  it  as  I  drove  into  Berg.  A  lad,  who  was 
passing,  directed  my  attention  to  my  loss.  I  ran  Irack,  and  hoisted 
the  sack  on  my  shoulders  to  replace  it  in  the  wagon.  At  that 
moment  a  very  pretty  girl,  whose  dress  announced  her  an  inhabi- 
tant of  Berg,  came  up  with  me.  I  do  not  know  how  I  looked  at 
her  or  she  looked  at  vie,  but  I  felt  the  strangest  sensjition  I  had 
ever  experienced  in  my  life.  While  I  was  staring  like  a  lx>oby,  I 
lost  my  hat,  and,  encumbered  as  I  was,  I  could  not  stoop  to  recover 
it.  The  beauty  saw  my  embarrassment,  and,  turning  back  with  the 
best-hearted  smile  in  the  world,  picked  up  the  hat  and  gave  it  to 
me.     To  this  day  I  do  not  know  how  I  thanked  her,  or  whether  I 


64  THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

thanked  her  at  all.  The  smile  bewitched  me  so  that  I  could  think 
of  nothing  else,  and  am  onlj  surprised  how  I  found  my  way  to  my 
agent's. 

"  In  the  house  of  the  agent  a  room  was  always  reserved  for  me, 
because,  in  my  frequent  journeys  to  and  fro,  I  found  it  sometimes 
convenient  to  remain  the  night  in  Berg.  I  might  as  well  have  gone 
back  this  time,  but  I  did  not.  I  staid  in  the  hope  of  seeing  my 
little  beauty  again,  and  never  left  the  window  commanding  a  view 
of  the  main  street  till  I  was  called  to  dinner. 

**  As  I  entered  the  room  where  the  dinner  was  served,  who  should 
I  see  but  the  very  object  of  my  thoughts  standing  by  the  table  ?  She 
was  evidently  preparing  to  dine  with  us.  The  post  of  honor  at 
the  upper  end  was  assigned  to  me,  and  the  fair  stranger  placed 
herself  opposite  to  me.  Frau  Diedrich,  the  agent's  wife,  said  some- 
thing to  me,  to  which  I  replied,  '  Good,  they  are  exquisite.' 

"  '  Good  heavens  !  how  sorry  I  am  you  did  not  come  last  week,' 
exclaimed  the  good  lady,  '  we  had  some  much  better.' 

"  *  Much  better ! '  said  I,  bewitched.  Frau  Diedrich  was  talking 
about  the  carp,  and  I  of  the  black  eyes  of  the  maiden.  The  fair 
girl  smiled,  and  looked  down. 

"  '  Lieber  Himmel  Herr  Schulze,  I  don't  think  you  heard  a  word 
I  said  ! '  said  my  hostess. 

"  '  Let  the  matter  alone,  wife,'  said  the  agent,  rising  to  fetch  his 
pipe.     '  Herr  Schulze  is  a  learned  man :  he  was  star-gazing.' 

"  *  Who  is  your  new  companion? '  I  seized  the  jQjst  moment  of 
asking,  when  the  beautiful  stranger  had  withdrawn. 

"  '  She  is  no  companion  of  mine,'  replied  Frau  Diedrich ;  *  she 
is  a  poor  girl,  whom  my  sister,  the  Pastorin  MuUer,  has  brought  up. 
My  brother-in-law  is  lately  dead,  and  my  sister,  being  obliged  to 
leave  the  vicarage,  has  sent  her  to  me  till  she  is  settled  again.' 

"  '  Poor,  is  she  ?  So  much  the  better  for  me,'  thought  I.  *  Then 
I  may  hope.  I  am  not  poor.  I  am  not  more  than  three-and-thirty, 
and  not  so  bad-looking.'  But  then  I  looked  again  at  the  delicate 
town-bred  girl,  and  then  at  myself —  a  potash-maker  in  my  peas- 
ant's blouse  !     My  courage  sank  a  hundred  fathoms  deep. 

"  Passing  by  the  kitchen,  I  saw  my  beauty,  with  an  apron  before 
her,  busy  over  the  fire,  and  the  thermometer  rose  a  little.  She 
looked  as  if  performing  an  accustomed  duty.  In  the  evening,  as  I 
was  sitting  alone  in  my  room,  I  heard  something  knocking  like  a 
knife  on  a  chopping-board.  I  listened  again,  and  recognized  the 
sound  of  a  detestable  old  harpsichord,  with  about  as  much  tone  as 
a  tin-kettle,  and  horribly  out  of  tune  into  the  bargain.  Thinkmg  it 
was  one  of  Diedrieh's  boys  amusing  himself,  I  opened  the  door  be- 


THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  65 

tween,  and  entered  abruptly.  Lo  !  and  behold  !  there  sat  the  fair 
maiden,  again  alone  !  and  the  room  was  evidently  the  one  appropri- 
ated to  her  use  for  the  time.  She  started,  and  colored  at  my  uncere- 
monious entry,  and  so  did  I.  I  seemed  destined  to  appear  before 
her  in  some  awkward  guise  or  other.  Now  the  mischief  was  done, 
I  could  only  make  the  best  excuse  I  could  think  of,  and  beg  permis- 
sion to  try  my  skill  at  tuning  the  old  harpsichord.  She  consented  : 
I  brought  it  into  something  like  order,  and  was  rewarded  by  hearing 
her  play,  which  she  did  with  great  taste  and  feeling.  The  tin 
kettle  sounded  like  the  music  of  the  spheres.  She  expressed  some 
surprise  to  find  me  so  musical,  and  afterwards,  that  I  could,  unlike 
most  country  people,  speak  of  anything  else  than  country  matters. 

"  '  Are  the  country  people  all  so  learned  with  you,  Mr.  Schulze  ?  ' 
asked  she,  with  her  gentle  smile. 

*'  I  do  not  know  what  I  answered.  The  smile  and  the  glance  of 
her  black  eyes  took  away  my  breath  and  my  senses  for  the  time. 
The  poor  child  seemed  to  have  but  little  to  amuse  her  in  Diedrich's 
house,  for  on  my  asking  her  to  walk  out  with  me,  she  was  ready  in 
a  moment.  The  walk  did  her  good  :  her  features  lost  a  certain 
tinge  of  melancholy  which  I  had  admired  as  the  greatest  of  charms 
till  I  saw  the  same  features  lighted  up  with  smiles,  and  then  I 
found  gladness  best  became  them.  At  supper,  she  sat  opposite  to 
me  again ;  and,  after  supper,  we  went  to  the  old  harpsichord  again. 
This  was  too  much.  I  never  closed  my  eyes  that  night.  The  morning 
star  found  me  as  wakeful  as  the  evening  had  left  me.  Lovers  reckon 
by  the  stars,  because  they  hover  in  spirit  above  the  earth  while 
they  are  lovers.  I  fancied  I  must  be  ill,  and  so  I  told  Diedrich, 
and  made  that  the  excuse  for  remaining  the  whole  day  at  Berg. 
My  dear  little  neighbor  had  abundance  of  compassion  for  me,  and 
did  her  best  to  amuse  me.  While  she  sung  to  me,  or  talked  or 
walked  with  me,  the  headache  I  complained  of  left  me,  but  my 
heart,  ^ — ah,  friend  Roder!  When  I  returned  to  Hard,  on  the 
thu-d  day,  I  was  absolutely  miserable.  I  thought  I  was  going  to 
die,  and  I  believe  I  made  some  verses  to  the  moon ! 

"  My  ofl&cial  duties  began  to  be  terribly  importunate,  and,  I  am 
afraid,  were  very  indifferently  performed  the  week  after  my  visit  to 
Berg.  On  the  other  hand  I  was  seized  with  a  sudden  zeal  for  beau- 
tifying my  house,  and  had  many  things  done  which  had  hitherto 
appeared  to  me  extremely  superfluous.  I  even  bought  an  excellent 
piano  which  I  had  found  on  sale  in  a  neighboring  town.  This  was 
hardly  to  be  called  a  superfluity,  but  I  had  not  felt  inclined  to  cul- 
tivate my  musical  talents  the  whole  eight  or  nine  years  I  had  spent 
in  Hard  with  half  the  zeal  as  since  ray  visit  to  Berg.  The  next 
5 


66  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

^e  I  drove  over,  I  bestowed  a  little  more  attention  on  my  dress, 
%nd  when  I  caught  sight  of  the  church  tower  of  Berg  behind  the 
pine  wood,  I  could  almost  hear  my  heart  beat.  Diedrich  and  his 
wife  received  me  with  their  wonted  cordiality,  and  their  sweet  friend 
returned  my  awkward  greeting  with  a  smile  and  a  blush  that  looked 
almost  like  pleasure  at  seeing  me  again. 

*'  The  harpsichord  wanted  tuning  again,  and,  while  I  was  doing  it, 
I  mentioned  my  purchase  of  a  new  piano,  and  expressed  a  hope 
that  I  should  hear  her  play  on  it  some  day,  and  that  was  all  I  said. 
We  went  out  to  walk,  and  among  the  thousand  things  we  talked 
about,  the  thing  I  wished  most  to  say  was  exactly  what  I  did  not 
and  could  not  say. 

*'  *  Shall  you  be  here  again  next  week  ?  '  asked  she,  when  she 
gave  her  hand  at  parting.  We  were  alone,  and  yet,  like  an  idiot, 
as  I  was,  I  could  find  no  answer,  but,  *0n  Thursday  certainly,' 
as  if  I  had  been  talking  only  to  Frau  Diedrich. 

"  All  the  way  home  I  had  employment  enough  in  quarrelling  with 
myself,  and  vowing  in  my  heart  to  acquit  myself  the  ensuing  week 
somewhat  less  like  a  simpleton. 

"  My  home  was  no  longer  as  it  had  been  to  me.  I  wandered 
through  my  colony.  I  looked  on  my  own  creation,  on  the  testi- 
mony of  a  resolute  purpose  resolutely  pursued.  I  saw  it  was  right, 
but  it  did  not  rejoice  me ;  I  could  not  look  on  my  work  and  say 
•that  it  was  good.'  Beyond  the  right  and  useful,  something  was 
wanting,  something  higher,  and  that  lay  beyond  my  power.  My 
work  wanted  consecration ;  as  yet,  in  my  little  world,  the  '  beau- 
tiful '  was  not !  And  the  beautiful  is  everywhere  the  reflected 
light  of  Love;  when  hallowing  the  earthly,  it  reveals  itself  to 
earth. 

•'  This  week  that  passed  before  I  went  to  Berg  again,  was  certainly 
longer  than  the  whole  eight  years  I  had  spent  in  Hard.  This  time 
I  found  courage  to  say  that  the  time  had  appeared  immeasurably 
long  since  I  had  seen  her,  and  she  answered  innocently,  '  I  am 
very  glad  when  you  come  :  I  am  so  lost  here.  It  is  a  pleasure  to 
meet  any  one  with  whom  we  can  sympathize.'  And  hereupon  we 
were  both  silent,  perhaps,  because  I  took  her  hand  and  drew  it 
within  my  arm,  at  these  words,  —  a  freedom  I  had  never  ventured 
on  before.  I  did,  however,  find  courage  enough,  after  a  while,  to 
say,  that  *  I  should  have  thought  it  more  likely  that  she  would  find 
here  and  everywhere  hearts  only  too  ready  to  sympathize  with 
hers ;'  to  which  she  answered  nothing,  and  I  was  as  well  satisfied 
that  she  did  not. 

**  When  we  returned  to  the  house,  I  invited  Diedrich  and  his  wife 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  67 

to  come  over  to  Hard  and  look  at  my  new  buildings.  '  That  we 
will,  gladly,'  answered  he.  *I  want  to  give  Miss  Augusta  a 
day's  pleasure  before  she  goes  back  next  week;'  and  here  he 
handed  her  a  letter  from  his  sister-in-law,  her  protectress. 

"  '  And  are  you  really  going  to  leave  us? '  I  asked  her  as  she 
gat  at  the  old  harpsichord  in  the  evening. 

*'  Her  hands  dropped  into  her  lap.  *I  must,  my  foster-mother 
has  sent  for  me.' 

' '  I  thought  I  saw  a  tear  sparkle  through  her  long  eyelashes,  and 
ventured  to  press  her  hand  to  my  lips  when  we  parted  for  the 
night. 

"  On  my  return  to  Hard,  Diedrich  and  his  whole  family  accom 
panied  me.  And  when  I  was  once  more  at  home,  and  saw  that 
home  lighted  by  her  bright  presence,  sunshine  and  joy  were  in  me 
and  around  me  !  My  work  was  hallowed  by  the  breath  of  love. 
The  good  was  wedded  to  the  beautiful. 

•'  Man's  heart  and  hands  can  accomplish  great  things  in  the  stir  and 
tumult  of  the  world.  Woman  is  powerless  in  its  troubled  strife, 
yet  nobler  in  her  weakness,  because  more  alien  to  the  mere  earthly 
than  man.  She  sanctifies  him  through  her  love,  awakens  in  him 
the  sense  of  the  beautiful,  and  she  alone  has  received  from  Heaven 
the  gift  of  crowning  his  brow  with  the  wreath  of  victory.  For  men 
can  never  reward  men  for  the  struggle  and  the  conquest.  All  that 
men  can  accomplish  alone  may  be  great,  but  it  is  loveless ;  just  in 
its  purpose,  but  austere  in  aspect.  Man's  only  exclusive  work  b. 
red-handed  war.     Woe  to  that  world  where  love  is  not !  " 


THE   HIGHEST    FESTIVAL. 

"  I  LODGED  my  guests  in  the  Baths,  with  a  private  hint  to  the  land- 
lord and  his  wife  to  amuse  and  occupy  Diedrich  and  his  wife  as 
much  as  possible,  that  I  might  keep  Augusta  exclusively  to  myself. 
Frau  Diedrich  was  scandalized  at  the  humility  of  my  household 
arrangements,  and  could  not  understand  why  I  did  not  '  live 
better,'  as  she  phrased  it.  'I  might  easily  do  so,'  I  answered, 
looking  at  the  only  person  to  whom  I  was  desirous  of  recommending 
my  humble  dwelling,  '  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  my  happiness. 
I  will  do  without  unnecessary  necessaries,  that  I  may  have  where- 
with to  supply  real  ones.' 

"Diedrich  shook  his  head,  and  merely  replied,  '  Herr  Schitlze, 


68  THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

you  are  a  humorist.'  But  the  beloved  one  looked  on  me  with 
sparkling  eye  and  kindling  cheek.  '  Where  such  spotless  neat- 
ness reigns,  who  would  seek  or  desire  other  adornment  ? '  cried 
she.  *  When  health  and  contentment  are  the  companions,  who 
asks  whether  they  sit  at  a  table  of  beechen  wood  or  mahogany  ?  — 
if  they  are  served  on  earthenware,  or  from  porcelain  and  silver? ' 

"I  pressed  the  hand  of  my  sweet  advocate  in  silent  gratitude,  and 
led  her  through  every  part  of  my  domain ;  she  had  understanding 
and  sympathy  for  all,  and  while  her  eyes  wandered  over  the  wide- 
spreading  prospect,  rich  in  fruit  and  promise,  her  heart  seemed  to 
swell  within  her,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  'This  is  heavenly,' 
she  murmured. 

"  *  And  will  you  forsake  it,  then  ? '  said  I.  *  Will  it  be  heav- 
enly to  me  when  you  are  gone  ? '  She  was  silent,  as  if  she  did 
not  understand  me.  *  Oh,  remain !  Where  else  would  you  he^ 
loved  and  cherished  as  you  are  loved  and  cherished  here  ?  He^ 
mine !  For  me  there  is  no  happiness  without  you.  You  are  an 
orphan;  if  I  may  hope  to  win  your  heart,  who  shall  refuse  me 
your  hand  ? ' 

"  '  It  is  true,  I  have  neither  father  nor  mother,'  said  Augusta, 
and  a  shade  of  sadness  crossed  the  clear  heaven  of  her  brow,  like  a 
white  cloud  over  the  transparent  depths  of  a  summer  sky.  *  But 
I  have  made  a  vow  to  myself,  and  I  will  keep  it,  never  to  dispose 
of  myself  without  the  consent  and  approbation  of  a  man  whom  I 
love  and  honor  beyond  others  in  the  world.' 

'*  *  And  who  may  the  one  so  honored  be  ?  '  I  asked,  with  a  beat- 
ing heart. 

"'The  noblest-minded  being  on  earth,'  she  replied,  warmly. 
*My  father's  death  was  sudden  and  most  grievous.  He  had, 
though  from  no  fault  of  his  own,  ruined  a  young  man  who  had  been 
his  ward;  and  yet  this  young  man  was  the  only  person  in  the 
world  who  had  compassion  on  his  orphan  child.  He  shared  with 
me  the  little  my  father's  misfortunes  had  left  him,  provided  me 
with  suitable  protection,  gave  me  an  education,  —  any  good  that 
may  be  in  me  is  his  work.  I  owe  him  every  breath  I  draw ;  I 
honor  him  as  my  second  father.  Whero  to  find  him  I  know  not ; 
for,  like  the  Providence  that  blesses  us  unseen,  he  has  never  been 
visible  to  my  gratitude  ;  two  letters  I  wrote  him  remain  unanswered  ; 
yet  my  determination  is  unalterable,  never  to  accept  the  hand  of 
any  man  without  asking  and  obtaining  his  approbation.' 

"  *  And  his  name  ? '  asked  I,  breathless  with  expectation. 

"  *  His  name  is  Engelbert.' 

"  *  And  yours  is  Augusta  Lenz.' 


THE   TWO   MII'IONAIRES.  69 


**  She  looked  at  me  with  surprise.  I  took  her  hand  and  led  her 
back  into  the  house,  into  my  study,  and  took  from  the  drawer  of 
my  desk  two  letters,  which  I  laid  before  her. 

*'  *  Grood  heavens !  how  did  these  letters  fall  into  your  hands,  Mr. 
Schulze  ? '  exclaimed  Augusta,  as  she  recognized  her  own  hand- 
writing. 

**  'I  am  Engelbert,'  was  all  I  could  say. 

'*  In  spite  of  all  I  could  do  to  hinder  her,  Augusta  sunk  on  her 
knees  before  me,  seized  my  hands,  and  covered  them  with  tears 
and  kisses. 

"  *  Let  me,  let  me,'  she  sobbed,  resisting  my  efforts  to  raise  her. 
*  How  I  have  longed  for  this  moment,  when  I  could  pour  out  my 
whole  heart  before  my  benefactor,  my  only  friend  !' 

"But  I  need  say  no  more,  my  friend;  you  will  guess  how  I 
^nswered,  and  how  I  sped  in  my  wooing.  From  that  moment 
^gan  the  real  happiness  of  my  life,  —  a  happiness  that  has  never 
known  pause  or  hindrance  in  its  course,  nor  will,  I  hope  and  trust, 
till  the  hearts  of  both  are  stilled  in  death. 

"  You  may,  perhaps,  be  surprised  that  we  did  not  become  sooner 
known  to  each  other,  and  yet  the  cause  was  very  simple.  My 
agent,  Diedrich,  had  never  called  me  by  any  other  name  than  my 
official  one,  as  the  people  hereabouts  are  wont  to  do,  and  Augusta, 
who  was  a  stranger  to  Hard  and  its  relations,  had  taken  it  for 
granted  that  *  Herr  Schulze '  bore  only  his  family  name,  and  no 
very  uncommon  one  either. 

"  Whatever  Frau  Diedrich  could  say  against  the  irregularity  of 
such  a  proceeding,  I  empowered  my  good  friend,  Pastor  Bode,  tc 
publish  the  banns  forthwith.  Augusta  had  given  me  a  double  right, 
in  admitting  my  authority  as  guardian  to  its  full  extent,  to  insist  ori 
her  leaving  Hard  no  more.  To  the  good  woman  who  had  charge 
of  my  bride,  she  wrote,  by  my  desire,  ensuring  to  her  the  yeariy 
sum  she  had  hitherto  received  as  the  price  of  Augusta's  mainten- 
ance, and  which  she  was  not  in  circumstances  to  spare  without 
inconvenience.  Diedrich  and  his  wife  remained  with  Augusta  my 
guests  at  the  Baths.  As  bride,  I  invested  her  with  the  full 
authority  of  the  future  mistress,  to  order  and  arrange  all  within  and 
without  the  house,  according  to  her  own  pleasure.  What  a  week 
we  passed !  second  only  in  felicity  to  those  we  have  known  since. 

"  On  the  day  of  our  wedding,  my  kind  and  gentle  Augusta  made 
her  appearance,  not  in  the  extravagant  and  somewhat  ridiculous 
finery  of  a  town  bride,  but  in  the  simple  and  unpretending  costume 
suitable  to  the  wife  of  a  village  Schulze,  —  the  guide  and  associate 
of  peasants,  over  whom  she  claimed  no  other  superiority  but  the 


70  THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 

undisputed   and    undisputable   one    of    greater  knowledge    and 
virtue. 

"A  fortnight  after  this,  Pastor  Bode  joined  our  hands  at  tho 
altar." 


A   FORTUNATE   MISFORTUNE. 

"  Augusta's  diligence  and  skill  in  domestic  arrangements  spared 
me  many  a  care.  Freed  from  all  anxiety  for  my  private  affairs, 
I  could  devote  myself  the  more  entirely  to  the  weightier  duties  of 
my  office. 

*'  I  had  been  about  two  years  married,  when  the  terrible  day  came 
which  reduced  all  Hard  to  ashes.  The  conflagration  had  its  origin 
in  some  very  usual  but  unpardonable  piece  of  carelessness  on  the 
part  of  one  of  the  inhabitants.  All  help  was  useless.  The  good 
people  of  Hard  stood  by  stupefied  and  totally  inactive,  while  others 
from  the  neighboring  villages  were  exerting  themselves  to  the  utmost 
to  save  their  cattle  and  farming  stock.  There  were  not  half  a  dozen 
houses  left  standing. 

"  The  blow  was  a  heavy  one ;  the  people  were  too  ignorant  and 
lazy  to  be  otherwise  than  poor;  the  aid  afforded  by  government 
scanty,  when  measured  by  the  want.  The  sufferers  looked  at  one 
another  in  helpless  consternation;  the  greatness  of  the  calamity 
had  robbed  them,  not  only  of  their  property,  but  of  their  heads  and 
their  hands,  such  as  they  were.  I  alone  did  not  despair-: — nay, 
even  saw  ground  for  hope  from  the  very  extent  of  the  misfortune. 
All  were  now  alike  poor.     They  must  work,  if  they  meant  to  eat. 

"As  soon  as  it  became  a  question  of  rebuilding  the  village,  I 
delivered  a  memorial  to  the  government,  in  which  I  endeavored  to 
prove  that  a  great  advantage  might  accrue  to  the  community  of 
Hard,  if  such  exchanges  were  effected  between  the  owners  of  the  land 
as  to  fix  every  man  in  the  centre,  or  nearly  so,  of  his  own  portion.  By 
this  means,  not  only  would  the  danger  of  a  similar  catastrophe  be  con- 
btderably  lessened,  but,  what  was  of  yet  more  consequence,  a  fruitful 
source  of  dispute  and  litigation  would  be  cut  off,  by  the  comparative 
isolation  of  the  proprietors.  My  plan  was  approved  of,  and  a  com- 
mission appointed  to  effect  the  necessary  exchanges,  at  the  head  of 
which  I  was  placed,  in  spite  of  the  murmurs  and  opposition  of  the 
Harders.  The  business  was  arranged  at  last,  but  not  without  con- 
siderable difficulty ;  and  every  man's  portion  of  land  brought  within  % 


THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  71 

ring-fence.  The  grand  want  at  present  was  of  timber  for  building. 
There  was  none  fit  for  the  purpose  to  be  procured  but  from  a  con- 
siderable distance,  and  consequently  at  an  enormous  price ;  and 
many  were  the  lamentations  that  Baron  von  Lesecke's  forests  had 
not  been  purchased  when  he  offered  them  ten  years  before. 

**  I  now  caused  the  remainder  of  my  timber  to  be  felled,  and  sold 
at  the  most  moderate  price,  without  requiring  immediate  payment. 
The  greater  part  I  allowed  to  remain  over  for  two  years,  without 
interest.  To  many  persons  I  advanced  money.  The  government 
did  its  part.  For  the  poorest  of  all,  liberal  collections  were  made 
among  the  guests  at  the  Baths. 

"  In  little  more  than  a  year  the  village  rose  from  its  ashes  ia 
scattered  dwellings,  as  you  now  see  it.  As  a  further  security 
against  fire,  I  had  public  ovens  built,  apart  from  the  dwelling- 
bouses  ;  better  engines  provided,  and  a  well  dug  near  every  house. 
I  had  the  water  from  my  own  lands,  and  those  of  others  situated  on 
the  heights,  conducted  into  one  common  channel,  and  directed 
toward  the  waste  common  land.  Here  the  great  canal  was  divided 
into  a  number  of  smaller  canals,  passing  through  the  meadows,  the 
fertility  of  which  was  increased  threefold,  by  artificial  inundation. 
The  fields  and  gardens  around  soon  showed  signs  of  improvement. 
Being  immediately  under  the  eye  of  the  owner,  they  were  more 
carefully  cultivated,  and  much  valuable  time  spared,  which  had 
formerly  been  wasted  in  running  from  one  outlying  field  to 
another.  Poverty  and  necessity  compelled  the  greater  part  to 
economy,  both  of  time  and  monoy.  The  public  house  in  the  village 
was  less  visited.  In  my  inn,  I  allowed  neither  wine  nor  spirits  to 
be  sold.  The  widow  of  the  former  Schulze,  who  still  kept  the 
house  in  the  village,  abused  me  unmercifully ;  but  I  obtained  my 
object.  Had  she  followed  my  advice,  and  arranged  her  house  for 
the  reception  of  the  water-drinkers  and  bathers,  she  might  have  been  a 
much  richer  woman,  for  this  house  is  often  so  full  that  new  guests 
are  continually  obliged  to  leave  the  place  for  want  of  lodging. 

"  It  is  true  that  the  greater  part  of  the  village  is  still  in  debt  to 
me,  but  their  other  debts  are  nearly  acquitted,  and  this  was  the 
consequence  of  real  misfortune.  Our  village  is  the  most  flour- 
ishing and  industrious,  and  therefore  the  highest  in  credit,  in  the 
whole  country.  We  have  no  more  lawsuits,  and  squabbling  and 
fighting  are  scarcely  remembered  among  us.  Many  of  my  former 
scholars  of  both  sexes  are  now  themselves  parents,  and,  I  may 
honestly  assert,  are  as  warmly  attached  to  me  as  ever.  Order  and 
cleanliness  greet  the  eye  and  gladden  the  heart  on  every  side. 

"  It  may  have  contributed  in  some  measure  to  this  happy  change, 


72  THE    TWO    MILLIONAIRES. 


that  I  have  remitted  the  interest  of  the  sums  owing  to  me  to  those 
who  distinguished  themselves  the  year  through  in  the  neatness  of 
their  houses  and  persons,  the  cultivation  and  good  order  of  their 
fields,  and  in  keeping  from  quarrels  and  litigation.  By  way  of 
encouragement  to  the  rest,  I  made  a  gift  of  the  whole  capital  due  to 
me,  to  the  three  families  who  first  worked  themselves  free  from  all 
other  debt." 

Engelbert  had  proceeded  thus  far  in  his  narration,  when  we  were 
interrupted  by  Augusta.  She  looked  like  a  rose  in  its  full  pride 
of  beauty,  with  all  its  buds  clustering  round.  The  infant  was  on 
her  arm,  the  youngest  boy  clinging  to  her  side,  and  the  elder  ones 
frolicking  about  her.  What  a  morning  greeting  was  there  !  I  felt 
a  child  again  among  those  happy  children  of  nature. 

The  bell  for  church  came  up  through  the  valley.  "We  went  all 
together,  and  I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  eflfect  of  the  hymn  of 
praise  sung  in  four  parts  by  the  numerous  congregation.  The 
address  of  the  silver-haired  pastor  was  worthy  of  the  rest  —  earnest, 
simple,  touching  —  intelligible  to  all  —  practical  for  this  life,  yet 
teaching  to  look  beyond  it. 

When  the  service  was  over,  the  whole  community  assembled 
under  the  lime  trees.  The  Schulze  spoke  in  a  kind  and  friendly 
manner  to  several  who  addressed  him,  and  then,  mounting  a  bench, 
read  some  government  proclamations,  and  explained  and  cleared  up 
some  misunderstanding  respecting  them.  When  this  business  was 
over,  he  pointed  me  out  with  his  hand  to  the  assembly  and  said  — 
"  I  have  here  an  old  and  dear  friend  on  a  visit  to  me;  and  as  I 
wish  to  give  him  pleasure,  and  also  to  make  known  to  him  those 
young  people  who  have  particularly  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  conduct  since  our  last  meeting,  I  invite  them  all  to  a  dance 
and  supper  with  me  this  evening." 

And  here  the  Schulze  read  a  long  list  of  names  from  a  paper 
which  he  held  in  his  hand  :  hereupon  a  general  whispering,  hand- 
shaking, and  smiling  took  place,  and  the  assembly  separated  with 
joyous  faces  and  sparkling  eyes.  The  reverend  pastor,  the  school- 
master, Librecb,  an  intelligent,  well-informed  young  countryman, 
possessed  of  considerable  natural  talent  and  an  ardent  thirst  for 
knowledge,  and  the  doctor  and  his  wife,  joined  us  at  dinner,  which, 
contrary  to  Engelbert's  usual  custom,  was  very  handsome,  and  had 
been  prepared  at  the  bathing-house.  I  never  passed  a  happier 
evening,  and  have  rarely  listened  to  a  better  concert.  Seven-and- 
forty  voices,  male  and  female,  executed  choruses  and  motells,  from 
Grann,  Handel,  Rolle,  and  Haydn,  with  a  pui-ity  of  style  and  pre* 
oifiion  of  tone  that  would  not  have  disgraced  a  concert  in  the  capital 


THE   TWO    MILLIONAIRES.  73 

Engelbert,  his  wife,  and  two  elder  boys,  were  among  the  sino-ers 
The  concert  was  given  in  the  open  aii%  behind  the  garden  of  the 
bathing-house.  The  place  seemed  made  for  the  purpose.  A  sofl 
echo  from  the  distant  rocks  sent  back  the  harmony  in  magic  sweet- 
ness ;  the  evening  sun  shone  in  full  splendor  on  the  fields,  and 
broke  through  the  trees  on  the  broad  grassy  glade  where  we  stood, 
chequering  its  deep  emerald  with  broad  gleams  of  gold,  and  hover- 
ing like  a  glory  round  many  a  fair  young  head.  I  confess  the 
whole  scene  had  something  inexpressibly  touching  to  me. 

0 !  and  all  this  is  the  work  of  one  man !  thought  I,  gazing 
around  me.  And  this  man,  who,  wherever  he  moved  and  looked, 
beheld  his  own  creation,  and  that  it  was  good,  stood  there  simple 
and  unassuming  among  the  rest,  a  peasant  among  peasants.  When 
the  concert  was  over,  I  clasped  his  hand  with  heartfelt  emotion,  and 
exclaimed  involuntarily,  ' '  Thou  ai't  one  of  the  really  great  in  the 
rustic  garb." 

The  evening  closed  with  a  dance  in  the  large  and  handsome 
saloon  of  the  dwelling-house.*  Augusta  was  my  first  partner,  and  a 
very  charming  one  I  found  her ;  and  after  her  some  of  the  prettiest 
wives  and  maidens  of  Hard.  Many  of  them  danced  exceeding  well, 
and  did  infinite  credit  to  the  Frau  Schulzin,  who  had  been  their  only 
instructress.  The  venerable  gray-haired  pastor,  who  mingled  with 
his  flock  like  a  gi-andfather  among  his  beloved  children's  children, 
was  not  the  least  interesting  person  of  the  group.  We  sat  at 
supper  as  chance  or  choice  dictated.  A  fair  young  rustic,  who  sat 
next  me,  entertained  me  very  agreeably  and  very  rationally,  —  far 
more  so  than  many  a  fashionable  damsel,  whom  it  has  been  my  lot 
to  meet  in  circles  of  far  higher  pretensions,  has  done  since. 

As  soon  as  my  carriage  was  mended,  and  my  servant  in  condition 
to  travel,  I  left  Hard.  Engelbert,  who  considered  me  as  his  guest 
in  a  house  that  belonged  to  him,  would  not  hear  of  my  offering  any 
remuneration  where  I  had  lodged.  I  left  his  village,  therefore,  as 
his  debtor,  with  what  feelings  of  genuine  admiration  and  respect,  I 
need  not  describe  to  you.  You  have  now  the  history  of  my  second 
millionaire,  (continued  Counsellor  Von  Rodern,)  deduce  what 
a-l vantage  you  can  for  the  point  in  dispute. 

Even  those  among  us  who  had  defended  Morn's  misanthropy 
could  not  deny  that  Engelbert  had  had  fully  as  much  cause  for 
hostility  to  society  in  general ;  and  confessed  that,  with  the  same 
views  of  social  evil,  he  had  been  no  self-indulgent  Morn,  but  an 
unwearied  benefactor  of  his  kind.     Yet  they  were  unwilling  to  give 

*  A  common  practice  in  Germany. 


74  TOE  TWO   MILLIONAIRES. 


up  the  cause,  but  defended  Morn,  as  Rousseau  had  been  defended, 
on  the  score  of  the  excessive  susceptibility  of  his  temper. 

*'  To  speak  more  plainly,  he  was  a  vain  man,  or,  as  the  phrenol- 
ogists would  say,  his  approbativencss  was  strongly  developed,"  said 
Von  Krachen,  smiling.  "  Hence  he  was  easily  deceived,  and  the 
often-deceived  man  is  inevitably  a  mistrustful  man.  With  less 
judgment  than  imagination,  he  was  often  as  much  mistaken  in  him- 
self as  in  others,  adopted  opinions  upon  insufficient  grounds,  and 
drew  general  inferences  from  particular  cases." 

Engelbert  had  both  head  and  heart  in  the  right  place,  and  did 
not  abandon  a  general  principle  because  of  a  trifling  failure  in 
peculiar  instances.  Many  lament  and  complain  of  the  perversity 
and  corruption  of  the  world.  Engelbert  hated  the  corruption,  but 
he  did  not  whine  over  it.  He  attacked  it  boldly  within  his  own 
little  world,  and  reformed  it.  He  made  war  on  the  error,  but  not 
on  the  erring.  Pity  that  there  are  not  a  few  more  Engelberts  in 
the  world  !  But  the  greater  part  of  our  world-reformers  like  the 
theory  far  better  than  the  practice.  They  can  eulogize  virtue 
freely,  but  have  no  courage  for  the  practice  of  it.  They  are  them- 
selves fettered  by  the  very  follies  and  prejudices  against  which  they 
cry  out  so  lustily.  They  are  weaklings  without  heart  for  that 
truth  and  nature  they  so  loudly  commend,  and  hug  the  chain  while 
they  contemn  the  slavery.  Or,  if  they  make  the  sacrifice,  they  will 
have  counter-sacrifices ;  praise,  honor,  popular  applause.  How 
many  would  like  to  put  themselves  in  Engelbert's  place,  act  the 
reformer's  part,  instead  of  declaiming  it ;  bear  all  that  was  reput 
give  in  it,  bear  to  be  misconstrued  and  misrepresented,  and  nevei 
once  ask,  will  the  world  applaud  the  action?  And  till  people  are 
found  willing  to  do  this,  take  my  word  for  it,  though  the  preacher! 
may  be  many,  the  converts  will  be  few 


'^I    OWE    ¥011    NBTHIMB.    SIR." 


PART  I. 

THE     EARL. 


The  recess  was  drawing  to  a  close.  The  countess  and  her  daugh- 
ters had  already  left  for  London.  The  earl  remained  at  the  castle, 
to  give  further  directions  about  the  estate,  with  no  companion  but 
his  heir. 

To  this  boy's  interest  the  father  was  dedicating  his  life.  He  had 
watched  him  during  ton  years  with  intense  anxiety.  He  had  seen 
faculties  of  the  highest  order  developing  themselves  in  his  char- 
acter, and  he  resolved  to  train  him  for  the  service  of  the  state. 

Reflecting  that  much  of  his  own  time  had  been  consumed  in  the 
petty  cares  of  a  numerous  tenantry,  the  earl  yielded  to  the  proposals 
of  his  factor,  divided  his  estate  into  large  sheep-farms,  and  expelled 
his  old  tenants.  In  this  way,  he  thought,  his  son  would  find  fewer 
cares  to  trouble  him  when  he  grew  up,  and  more  time  to  realize  his 
destiny. 

The  arrangements  were  nearly  completed.  The  factor  and  his 
ofl&cials  had  been  with  the  earl  all  the  morning.  They  were  gone 
to  eject  the  last  of  the  tenants.  The  earl  continued  at  the  writing- 
desk,  and  wrote  as  follows  to  his  countess :  — 

*•  These  vile  attacks,  my  dearest  countess,  we  shall  scorn.  The 
newspapers  must  minister  to  the  insatiate  malice  against  our  order, 
which  rankles  in  the  breasts  of  the  vulgar.  Our  apology,  —  our 
reason,  I  should  rather  say,  —  is  to  be  found  in  the  ways  of  Prcvi- 
dence.  We  have  acted  in  strict  accordance  with  the  laws  which 
rule  our  race.  Everywhere  ignorance  must  give  place  to  knowl- 
edge ;  the  incapable  to  those  who  have  capacity.  The  business 
habits,  the  extensive  enterprise,  the  improved  skill  of  the  Lowland 
farmers,  supplant  the  backwardness,  the  unskilfulness,  the  sluggish- 
ness,  of  our  Highland  tenantry.  We  lament  that  it  must  be  so. 
The  touching  verses  in  your  own  diary  express  our  sorrow.     But 

(75) 


76  **I    OWE    YOD    NOTHING. 


jj 


tbe  time  was  come.  The  law  of  Providence  was  to  be  vindicated ; 
and  our  much  bepitied  tenantry  are  gone  to  supplant  those  who  are 
less  skilful  in  North  America,  who  again,  years  ago,  naturally  en- 
tered into  the  place  of  the  aborigines. 

' '  I  soQietimes  feel,  however,  as  if  I  would  not  have  cared  to  be- 
come the  voluntary  agent  in  the  hand  of  Providence,  had  it  not 
been  for  our  beloved  Noel.  My  heart  leaps  up  when  I  reflect  how 
my  present  toils  will  advantage  him.  Often  my  thoughts  project 
into  the  future.  I  see  our  boy  a  leader  among  the  greatest.  Not 
a  day  goes  past  which  does  not  bring  some  token  of  his  greatness 
to  my  sight. 

"This  very  morning  he  came  to  me,  as  I  was  reading  in  the 
deep  window  of  the  library,  and  said,  pointing  to  the  bay,  *  Look 
there,  father.  I  have  seen  the  bay  a  thousand  times  filled  with 
water,  and  the  waves  chasing  each  other  to  the  beach.  Far  over  on 
the  opposite  shore  I  can  see  the  horses  moving  along  the  road ;  and, 
to  the  right  and  left,  our  bay  is  walled  in  by  land.  I  see  land 
wherever  I  turn.  When  I  come  from  London  I  see  nothing  but 
land.  I  should  like  to  look  upon  the  broad  ocean,  father.  You 
told  me  yesterday  it  is  to  be  seen  from  Headland  Crag  there.  Be- 
hind it  you  say  the  sea  rolls  in  from  America.  Let  me  go  up  there 
while  you  are  engaged  with  the  factor.  I  will  climb  up  by  the 
shepherds'  track.' 

' '  What  a  spirit,  my  countess  !  Would  it  not  have  been  cruel  to 
have  denied  him  ?  I  wished,  indeed,  to  send  a  servant  with  him, 
but  he  would  not  go  on  that  condition.  The  self-relying,  courage- 
ous boy ! 

"While  I  write  to  you,  he  will  be  enjoying  his  reward.  I  well 
remember,  when  a  boy,  my  first  ascent  of  the  crag.  Up  and  up 
through  the  ploughed  fields  and  the  brown  heath  I  climbed,  until 
I  reached  the  hard  rock,  rugged  and  bare,  which  shoots  up  at  the 
summit.  It  was  a  worthy  spectacle.  Far  as  my  eye  could  reach, 
the  sea  stretched  out  before  me,  until  it  seemed  to  blend  into  the 
very  heavens.  I  had  only  seen  it  in  the  bay  before,  rolling  in  from 
the  opposite  shore.  I  now  beheld  it  sweeping  away  into  the  infinite ; 
and  e-^n  in  my  childhood  I  deemed  it  a  glorious  sight.  So, 
doubtless,  does  our  Noel  deem  it  at  this  moment,  as  a  new  idea  is 
taking  its  place  in  his  mind." 

He  gave  the  letter  to  a  domestic  to  carry  to  the  neighboring  post- 
town,  and  took  up  the  plans  of  his  estate.  In  vain,  however,  did- 
he  attempt  to  fix  his  mind  upon  the  dry  outlines ;  it  was  with  Noel 
on  the  top  of  Headland  Crag. 


I    OWE    YOU    NOTHING."  77 


The  bell  of  the  castle  struck  four  as  he  was  thus  engaged.  Ha 
had  calculated  on  Noel's  return  before  this  hour,  A  pang  of  unea- 
siness shot  through  the  father's  heart.  He  strove  to  subdue  it  by 
his  confidence  in  the  boy's  energy.  It  would  not  be  subdued.  In 
two  hours  more  the  sun  would  set.  Should  night  overtake  the 
young  adventurer,  what  mishaps  might  then  ensue  !  The  earl  rose 
in  restlessness.  The  door  of  the  library  opened  upon  a  lovely  lawn 
that  swept  down  like  a  crescent,  shaping  itself  to  the  bay.  A  little 
to  the  left,  on  the  public  road,  was  a  jutting  point,  from  which  a 
view  of  the  path  over  the  crag  was  commanded.  Thither  he  bent 
his  steps.  In  vain,  however,  did  his  eye  range  from  top  to  base  ; 
in  vain  he  searched  every  turn  of  the  footpath  through  his  pocket- 
glass.  No  Noel  was  to  be  seen.  An  old  thorn  stump  that  grew 
near  the  summit  was,  for  a  moment,  mistaken  for  the  boy,  and  the 
anxious  father  made  beckoning  signs  with  his  handkerchief.  Then 
a  solitary  bush,  half  way  to  the  base,  was  supposed  to  be  the  wearied 
heir  resting  for  a  little.  Objects  innumerable  assumed  the  shape 
of  Noel,  but  Noel  himself  came  not.  He  was  in  the  act  of  waving 
his  handkerchief  to  one  of  these  delusive  objects,  his  uneasiness 
passing  into  fear,  when  he  heard  the  approach  of  footsteps ;  and, 
turning  about  to  conceal  his  anxiety  by  the  assumption  of  an  in- 
different air,  and  to  see  what  stranger  was  travelling  on  that  lonely 
road,  he  beheld  one  of  the  most  singular  figures  he  had  ever  chanced 
to  set  his  eyes  upon. 

If  our  readers  would  fancy  Samuel  Johnson's  head  and  shoulders 
perched  upon  a  short,  spare  body,  and  the  very  slimmest  legs  — 
these  last  particulars  encased  in  dim  shepherd  tartan  —  a  camlet 
cloak  suspended  from  the  afore-mentioned  shoulders,  and  an  am- 
phibious expression  of  youth  and  age  over  the  whole,  they  would 
see  for  themselves  the  traveller  who  now  came  forward  to  the  earl 
and  stood  uncovered  in  his  presence. 

His  lordship  was  in  no  mood  to  be  troubled  at  that  time,  but 
there  was  something  in  the  demeanor  of  the  traveller  which  com- 
manded his  attention. 

*•  You  have  business  with  me?  "  insinuated  his  lordship,  as  the 
stranger  continued  silent.  "  May  I  presume  to  know  what  you 
are?" 

"I  was  the  schoolmaster  of  your  late  tenants,"  the  stranger 
replied.  "Your  factor's  servants  have  expelled  me  this  morning 
from  my  school  and  home.  I  am  now  houseless  and  helpless.  My 
wife  and  childien  are  with  me." 

As  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  the  weary  group  resting  on  the  beach, 
looking  fixedly  at  the  earl  and  himself.     Now  it  was  not  specially 


78  *'l   OWE   YOU    NOTHING." 

apparent  to  the  earl  that  the  poor  man  who  stood  beside  him  was  a 
victim  to  the  policy  which  he  had  been  pursuing  of  late  on  his  es- 
tate. Between  the  effects  of  that  policy  on  his  old  tenantry,  and 
the  policy  itself,  he  had  drawn  a  sufficient  veil,  so  that  he  could 
look  at  the  one  without  being  self-accusingly  troubled  about  the 
other.  He,  therefore,  listened  to  the  statement  which  had  just 
been  made,  as  a  formal  judge  would  to  a  passionate  plea  of  not 
guilty,  with  an  almost  entire  indifference,  arising  out  of  the  convic- 
tion that  such  things  must  necessarily  occur.  And  yet  the  earl  was 
not  a  bad  man.  He  was  simply  one  who  looked  upon  human  life 
from  the  position  of  an  earldom.  In  the  very  philosophy  which 
bred  this  indifference,  there  was  an  element  which  the  sight  of  the 
wearied  wife  and  children  was  exactly  fitted  to  bring  into  action. 
We  saw  in  his  letter  to  the  countess  that  he  considered  himself  as 
an  agent  in  the  hand  of  Providence  when  he  was  expelling  his  un- 
skilful tenantry.  On  a  similar  ground  he  held  that  his  order  was 
the  natural  custodier,  and  the  appointed  dispenser  of  the  charities 
of  Providence.  Hence,  a  few  months  before,  he  had  hurried  down 
from  Parliament  to  sit  as  chairman  at  a  county  meeting,  called  to 
consider  the  case  of  the  poor,  and  had  made  speeches  which  were 
circulated  as  the  very  cream  and  essence  of  benevolence.  And 
hence,  also,  as  if  the  action  were  the  irresistible  effect  of  the  sight 
he  was  directed  to,  he  drew  a  sovereign  from  his  purse,  and  held  it 
out  to  the  houseless  teacher. 

To  his  utter  amazement,  the  teacher  put  the  hand  which  held 
out  the  gratuity  from  him,  and  said,  with  great  dignity,  — 

"My  lord,  I  did  not  come  to  beg  your  charity.  God  has  en- 
dowed me  with  knowledge,  and  I  desire  to  impart  it." 

A  frown  crept  over  the  earl's  brow. 

The  schoolmaster  continued,  — 

"I  have  applied  for  two  schools,  and  have  been  unsuccessful. 
I  have  no  certificate.  They  who  could  best  tell  my  worth,  or  want 
of  worth,  are  far  out  on  the  sea.  Your  factor  never  heard  of  me. 
I  have  no  man  to  speak  for  me.  So  I  have  come  to  your  lordship. 
Your  lordship's  influence  may  procure  me  a  school  which  is  vacant 
on  your  neighbor's  estate." 

*•  You  have  come  in  a  wrong  spirit,"  replied  the  earl,  dropping 
the  rejected  sovereign  back  into  his  purse ;  **  and  besides,  you  have 
come  to  one  who  knows  you  not.  I  cannot  promise  you  my  influ- 
ence." 

The  last  sentence  was  uttered  in  an  irritated  tone,  and  the 
speaker  was  turning  away  to  be  quit  of  the  applicant,  when  the 
latter  said,  — 


I    OWE    TOU    NOTHING.''  79 


"  If  I  have  spoken  rudely,  my  lord,  pardon  me.  Indeed,  I  did 
not  purpose  to  do  so.  Yet  I  have  been  sorely  tried  this  day.  I 
beg  you,  for  my  family's  sake,  not  to  withhold  the  favor  I  ask." 

The  earl  made  no  reply. 

The  teacher  waited  for  a  moment,  and  then  resumed,  in  a  half 
soliloquy,  for  the  hope  of  effecting  his  purpose  was  fading  away,  - 

**  I  was  trusting  to  your  influence,  my  lord.  I  did  not  think  it 
would  have  been  refused.  I  thought  I  deserved  it,  to  some  extent. 
My  father,  and  my  father's  father,  were  tenants  under  your  ances- 
tors.    I  have  taught  the  children  of  your  tenantry.     My  lord  —  " 

"I  cannot  help  you,  sir;  I  cannot  help  you,"  interrupted  the 
earl,  turning  full  round  and  confronting  the  poor  teacher.  **  Your 
father's  father  I  did  not  know.  I  do  not  know  their  son.  If  you 
taught  the  children  of  my  tenantry,  they  would,  doubtless,  pay  you 
for  your  work.  You  deserve  nothing  at  my  hands.  I  am  not 
bound  to  you.     I  owe  you  nothing,  sir,  —  nothing." 

So  saying,  his  lordship  strode  away  to  arouse  the  castle  servants 
to  the  search  for  Noel,  and  left  the  schoolmaster  standing  in  the 
middle  of  the  road. 


PART  II. 

THE     TEACHER 


In  a  mean  hovel,  built  by  the  farmers  of  the  preceding  genera- 
tion on  a  piece  of  land  which  could  by  no  skill  of  husbandry  known 
to  them  be  turned  to  any  other  account,  the  man  who  was  treated 
with  so  much  contempt  by  the  earl  had  kept  a  school  since  he  was 
a  boy.  There,  three  miles  from  the  spot  on  which  he  now  stood,  he 
had  taught,  with  a  loving  and  willing  heart,  the  children  of  the 
ejected  tenantry.  He  was  a  thoughtful,  simple  soul,  who  knew 
little  of  the  world  in  which  the  earl  moved.  At  this  particular 
time,  too,  he  was  sickly.  And  the  haughty  words  stung  his  heart, 
and  brought  the  tear  into  his  eye. 

"  He  owes  me  nothing ! "  he  muttered  to  himself.  "  I  did  not 
say  he  did.  I  never,  till  now,  thought  he  did.  I  sought  his  help 
as  a  favor,  not  as  a  debt.  Yet,  now  I  think,  he  did  owe  it  to  me. 
God  help  my  family !  Our  trust  is  not  in  princes,  nor  in  men's 
sons." 

He  repressed  his  emotion,  however,  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
returned  to  his  wearied  and  houseless  companions.     They  were  all 


80  "I    OWE   YOU    NOTHING. 


weeping.  They  had  seen  the  earl  turning  away,  and  guessed  the 
result.  Three  children  clung  around  the  mother.  The  youngest 
did  not  understand  the  cause  of  the  sorrow,  but  wept  because  the 
rest  were  weeping. 

A  word  about  the  teacher's  wife.  She  was  a  true  helper,  and 
right  noble  soul.  Her  mind  was  firmer,  more  capacious,  than  her 
husband's.  She  had  stayed  up  his  sinking  spirits  when  the  proba- 
bility of  their  present  circumstances  first  darkened  their  minds ;  and 
now,  in  the  actual  circumstances,  she  was  not  wanting  in  either 
words  or  deeds  of  hope.  Her  grief  gave  way  speedily  to  a  better 
feeling. 

"  Let  us  not  fail  to  hope,  Duncan,"  she  said ;  "  I  feel  assured 
that  your  application  will  be  attended  to.  God  will  provide  for  you 
a  school.     We  must  hasten  towards  the  town  !  night  is  drawing  on." 

Shall  we  tell  our  readers  that  the  whole  family  knelt  down  upon 
the  beach,  and  committed  their  way  to  that  Being  whose  ear  is  ever 
open  to  the  cry  of  the  afflicted  ?  When  they  rose,  the  father  slung 
the  youngest  child  in  a  plaid  upon  his  breast,  the  mother  bound  a 
little  bundle  of  valuables  upon  her  back,  each  took  one  of  the  two 
elder  children  by  the  hand,  and  thus  they  resumed  their  journey. 

Their  road  lay  along  the  shore  of  the  castle  bay,  and  then  round 
the  peak,  and  along  the  other  base  of  the  headland,  which  Noel  had 
ascended  that  morning.  As  they  passed  the  castle,  they  saw  the 
earl  and  domestics  bustling  and  running  about  in  great  alarm. 
Ignorant  of  the  cause,  the  poor  teacher  could  not  help  recalling  the 
bitter  words  which  his  lordship  had  spoken,  and  thus  addressed  his 
wife,  — 

"  I  think,  Rachel,  that  my  ill-requited  toils  among  his  tenantry 
might  have  engaged  him  to  a  little  interest  in  our  future  welfare." 

"  At  all  events,  Duncan,"  the  wife  replied,  "  he  owed  you  an 
apology  —  kind  words,  at  least  —  for  the  rudeness  of  his  factor's 
men  to  us  this  day.  "  Yes,'*  she  continued,  with  a  dash  of  indigna- 
tion glowing  in  her  face,  "  he  owed  you  help,  he  owed  you  sympathy, 
he  owed .  you  justice.  He  was  bound  to  you,  to  me,  to  these  little 
ones,  by  our  very  sorrow,  even,  if  it  had  not  been  caused  by  him- 
self." 

But  either  her  indignation  or  her  grief,  or  both  together,  choked 
ner  utterance,  and  she  said  no  more.  Duncan  did  not  venture  to 
reply.  In  truth,  he  was  unable.  The  wrong  which  had  been  done 
to  him  was  at  present  hidden  from  his  view  by  his  anxiety  about  the 
future.  He  could  not  yet  define  it  or  utter  it.  It  lay  dumb  in  him 
in  the  deep  recesses  of  grief  and  fear.  With  Bachel,  it  was  difier- 
ent ;  she  clearly  saw  the  thought  which  her  husband  only  dimly 


I    O-VYE    YOU    NOTHING."  81 


felt.  Although  slie  continued  silent,  the  thought  was  working  in 
her  soul.  Her  flushed  face,  her  quickening  steps,  indicated  how 
clearly  she  apprehended  the  injustice  of  the  earl's  reply. 

"  Proud  earl  that  he  is  !  "  she  exclaimed  within  her  own  mind, 
"  with  all  his  greatness  he  does  not  know  how  sacred  is  a  human 
home.  What  other  earl,  what  other  earthly  dignitary,  what  human 
heart,  so  cruel  as  to  have  acted  as  he  and  his  have  dona!  He  said, 
*  I  do  not  know  you  —  I  owe  you  nothing,  you  inconjHfcble  boor 
on  my  estate ! '  The  man  was  wrong,  proud  peer  ^wo  taught 
thee  so  to  speak.  A  better  than  thou  did  not  refuse  to  know  us, 
and  to  help  us  well.  Morning  and  evening  He  came  to  our  solitary 
home.  He  came  to  us  with  life,  with  bread,  with  reason,  with 
family  ties,  with  words  from  His  Father's  bosom.  He  calls  us  no 
longer  servants,  but  friends.  Are  His  friends  to  be  so  despised  ? 
—  refused  the  cup  of  cold  water  ?     Sin  lies  at  thy  door,  my  lord !" 

Again,  however,  the  current  of  her  thoughts  was  interrupted. 
Duncan  and  the  children  were  standing  still.  They  had  at  length 
reached  the  extremity  of  the  headland.  The  weary  bend  of  the 
bay  in  which  the  castle  stood  had  been  travelled,  and  they  were  now 
prepared  to  wind  round  to  the  other  base  of  the  crag,  which  ran  along 
the  shore  of  the  open  sea,  and  skirted  the  road  that  led  to  the  town. 

Why  are  they  pausing  here  ?  What  has  rooted  them  so  to  the 
ground  ?  They  cannot  hide  from  themselves  that  night  is  hastening 
up  behind  them.  Yet  there  they  stand,  gazing  right  across  the 
mouth  of  the  bay,  and  far  over  into  the  level  country  beyond.  A 
column  of  smoke  is  rising  against  the  eastern  sky,  in  the  distance. 
The  wind  heaves  it  to  a  side  for  a  moment,  then  breaks  it  near  the 
ground,  and  bright  flames  issue  out  beneath.  Duncan  and  his  family 
are  again  in  tears.     Rachel  was  the  first  to  speak,  — 

"  The  home  where  our  babes  were  born !     So  —  Duncan " 

She  could  say  no  more.  House  and  school  were  in  flames.  The 
officials'  of  the  "  agent  of  Providence  "  were  burning  them  as  worth- 
less, and  their  late  possessors  had,  unexpectedly,  turned  towards  the 
painful  sight. 

Mournfully  they  withdrew  their  gaze,  and  resumed  their  journey. 
In  a  few  minutes  they  had  doubled  the  cape  of  the  crag,  and  the 
chill  breath  of  the  open  sea  beyond,  came  up  sorely  against  the  faces 
of  the  children, 

"  The  sea  is  gathering  for  a  storm,  Rachel,"  said  the  teacher. 

"  Let  us  mend  our  steps,  children,"  replied  the  mother ;  "  we 
have  to  reach  that  spire  shining  far  before  us  ere  we  rest." 

The  sea  rolled  in  heavily  on  their  left.     On  their  right,  sloping 
up  from  the  road,  arose  the  northern  face  of  Headland  Crag. 
6 


B2  "I    OWE    YOU    NOTHING. 


PART  III. 

THE     HEIR. 

We  return  to  the  castle  for  a  moment.  The  earl  had  ceased  to 
think  of  his  encounter  with  the  teacher.  Noel's  continued  absence 
filled  him  with  alarm,  and  shut  out  every  other  thought. 

An  instant  search  was  determined  on.  The  earl  himself,  and 
four  domestics,  with  dogs  and  torches,  set  out  for  the  shepherds' 
track.  Others  were  directed  to  separate  and  ascend  the  hill  from 
different  points,  hallooing  at  every  step;  then  to  meet  the  earl  and 
his  companions  upon  the  highest  ridge,  to  consider  how  they  should 
continue  the  search,  if  still  unsuccessful.  The  level  beams  of  the 
sun  were  resting  on  the  summit  of  the  crag  as  they  set  out,  warning 
them  to  lose  no  time. 

It  never  occurred  to  the  earl  that  Noel  had  been  tempted  to  de- 
scend the  crag  by  the  northern  side.  Yet  so  it  was.  When  the 
boy  had  clambered  to  the  summit  and  obtained  the  wished-for  sight, 
a  further  longing  and  curiosity  drew  him  down  to  the  shore  which 
lay  beneath.  AVith  all  the  thoughtlessness  of  a  headstrong  boy,  he 
yielded  to  the  longing,  and  found  himself  in  an  another  hour  stand- 
ing on  a  solitary  shore  at  the  base  of  that  height  which  had  taken 
him  three  hours  to  climb  from  the  castle  bay. 

While  he  stood,  his  eye  caught  a  ship  in  the  distance,  running 
before  the  wind  with  all  her  canvas  set.  Noel  was  in  raptures. 
All  the  coaches  he  had  ever  seen  were  nothing  compared  with 
this.  Sailing-boats  of  every  shape  were  glorious  in  his  eyes.  He 
gazed,  he  followed,  he  fairly  ran.  The  same  longing  which  led  him 
to  descend  the  hill,  impelled  him  after  the  sailing  vessel.  Along 
the  shore  he  ran,  until  he  was  thoroughly  tired,  keeping  his  eye 
fixed  on  the  ship  as  long  as  it  remained  in  sight.  When  he  be- 
thought himself  of  home,  he  was  far  from  the  beaten  foot-path  by 
which  he  had  crossed.  Struggling  with  weariness  and  hunger,  he 
slowly  retraced  his  steps.  Late  in  the  afternoon  he  had  once  more 
reached  the  entrance  to  the  track.  He  looked  upwards  :  the  hill 
rose  above  him  dark  with  gathering  shadows ;  to  his  view,  nearly 
thrice  the  height  which  it  appeared  in  the  morning  from  the  castle 
windows.  Dismay  and  weariness  overpowered  him.  He  sat  down 
on  the  beach  to  rest,  and  soon  fell  asleep,  his  head  resting  upon  an 
old  gray  stone. 

While  he  slept  the  tide  began  to  turn.  The  sea  rolled  towards 
his  resting-place,  the  waves  broke  within  a  few  paces  of  his  feet :  a 
fierce  wind  came  riding  on  their  back. 


I    OWE    YOU    NOTHING."  83 


He  was  sleeping  within  tide-mark,  but  had  providentially  lain  down 
on  a  swell  of  sand  ;  the  waves  girdling  him  more  closely,  but  he  was 
still  above  their  reach.  Yet  all  the  more  terrible  did  his  condition 
seem  when  he  awoke  and  saw  that  his  couch  of  sand  was  surrounded 
by  the  waters.  One  cry  of  intense  agony  burst  from  his  lips.  He 
heard  the  storm  howling  in  the  air.  He  felt  the  waves  dashing  at 
his  feet.     Behind,  before,  the  path  was  closed. 

"  Father  !  father !  father ! "  he  cried,  and  alternately  leaped  and 
cowered  down  with  fear.  The  sun  had  sunk,  but  there  was  still 
light  enough  to  discern  objects  on  the  hill.  With  a  child's  hope  he 
continued  to  call  upon  his  father,  although  no  living  thing  was  to  be 
seen  from  top  to  base. 

Suddenly  a  light  glanced  over  the  ridge.  Another,  and  another ! 
jThe  hill-top  seemed  on  fire.  Noel  could  discern  figures  within  the 
light,  and  instinctively  knew  they  were  from  the  castle.  He  re- 
doubled his  cries. 

"  I  am  here  !  I  am  here !  I  am  here  !  " 

No  human  voice  could  reach  so  high.  The  heavy  beat  of  the 
thundering  sea  was  heard  but  faintly  by  the  earl  and  his  domestics 
on  the  ridge. 

They,  however,  resolved  to  descend.  The  earl  was  bewildered, 
he  knew  not  what  to  think.  His  mind  ran  on  pitfalls,  and  wild 
beasts,  and  cold,  and  hunger,  and  every  possible  evil,  but  that  which 
engirdled  his  beloved  Noel.  With  the  speed  of  huntsmen  they  de- 
scended, darting  hither  and  thither  into  every  nook,  searching  every 
bush  and  brake  in  their  way.  Noel  beheld  their  torches  flashing 
nearer ;  he  felt  also,  behind  him,  the  might  of  approaching  waters. 
His  cries  continued  to  mingle  with  the  blast. 

Our  readers  have  heard  the  loudest  storm  sinking  into  a  moment- 
ary lull.  They  have  listened  to  the  noise  of  ^he  tempest  receding 
to  gather  new  strength.  In  such  a  lull,  the  voice  of  Noel  at  length 
pierced  upwards  to  his  father's  ears.  Some  dim  image  of  the  actual 
condition  of  his  boy  glanced  into  his  father's  mind.  He  and  his 
domestics,  hallooing  for  Noel's  sake,  waving  their  torches,  hurried 
down,  towards  the  shore.  Yet,  in  vain  had  they  hurried,  if  the 
deliverance  of  the  boy  had  depended  upon  them. 

The  tide  was  fairly  upon  him.  The  waves  were  already  dashing 
over  his  feet.  A  few  moments  more  and  he  must  have  been  swept 
away.  He  could  no  longer  cry.  Terror  now  mastered  him  and 
struck  him  dumb.  He  saw  the  black  waves  hurrying  past  him  on 
either  side  :  the  howl  of  the  mighty  wind  sounded  through  his  heart : 
he  was  about  to  sink  through  fear  and  exhaustion,  and  abandon  him- 
self to  the  tide,  when  he  felt  himself  lifted  from  the  sand  and  borne 


84  "I    OWE    YOU    NOTHING.' 


throuffli  tlie  darkness  and  the  waters  in  the  arms  of  a  human 
being. 

Twice  his  deliverer  was  overthrown  by  the  rush  of  the  waves 
rolling  to  the  shore.  With  firm  clasp  he  was  still  enabled  to  hold 
the  child  and  recover  his  footing. 

At  that  moment  the  earl  and  his  people  sprang  from  the  shep- 
herds' track. 

They  ran  about  in  all  directions,  hallooing  the  boy's  name.  Some 
of  them  leaped  down  upon  the  beach.  A  woman  and  three  children 
were  gazing  into  the  sea  with  the  greatest  agitation. 

"  Help !  help !  "  cried  the  woman,  "  he  is  there  I  —  in  —  save  my 
husband  and  the  child !  " 

Before  the  men  could  comprehend  her  meaning,  they  beheld  a 
man  bearing  a  child  aloft,  struggling  towards  the  shore,  nearer, 
nearer.  His  burden  is  safe !  He,  himself,  sinks  exhausted  into 
the  arms  of  the  woman. 

Noel  rushed  into  his  father's  arms,  and  clasped  him  again  and 
again.  A  few  words  sufiiced  to  explain  his  danger  and  his  unex- 
pected deliverance.  The  earl  turned  to  thank  the  brave  being  to 
whom  he  owed  so  much.  He  found  him  still  leaning  on  the  wo- 
man's breast ;  and  manifested  the  tenderest  sympathy. 

"  My  benefactor,  my  friend,  my  brother,  how  shall  I  ever  repay 
you  ?  Come  with  us  to  the  castle.  Accept  this  purse.  In  what 
way  can  I  assist  you,  or  pay  you  the  debt  you  have  so  generously 
laid  me  under  ?  " 

He  was  going  on  in  this  somewhat  incoherent  style,  when  the 
man  lifted  up  his  face  from  his  wife's  bosom  and  answered,  in  tones 
which  the  earl  too  well  remembered,  — 

"  My  lord,  you  owe  me  nothing.     I  have  but  done  my  duty." 

It  was  our  teacher.  The  screams  of  the  heir  caught  his  ears 
too,  in  that  momentary  lull  of  the  storm.  Giving  the  child  to 
Kachel,  he  had  ventured  through  the  surge,  and  was  enabled  to  do 
the  deed  we  have  already  described. 

We  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  mingled  feelings  of  the  earl. 
The  liveliest  gratitude  struggled  painfully  within  him  beneath  the 
pressure  of  Duncan's  proud  retort.  To  this  man  he  had  spoken 
rudely  but  a  few  hours  before.  He  was  now  bound  to  him  eternally. 
Once  and  again  he  proffered  his  thanks,  and  renewed  his  offers  of 
hospitality  and  help.  The  pride  of  the  teacher  stepped  between, 
and  waved  his  lordship's  help  away. 

"  This  morning,"  said  the  earl,  "  you  asked  a  favor  at  my  hanis. 
May  I  now  offer  what  I  then  refused  ? " 


I    OWE    YOU   NOTHING."  85 


• "  My  lord,  you  owe  me  nothing  —  nothing,  my  lord.  Rachel, 
let  us  hasten  on  our  way." 

Rachel  had  listened  with  eagerness  all  the  while.  She  would  not 
have  spoken  in  the  earl's  presence,  if  her  name  had  not  been  men- 
tioned. She  knew  her  husband's  pride  of  heart:  she  knew 
how  deeply  he  had  cause  to  feel  the  conduct  of  the  earl's  officials. 
But  now  the  circumstances  were  changed.  The  peer  was  asking 
what  the  teacher  had  to  bestow. 

"  Duncan,"  said  she,  "  have  you  forgotten  that  God  has  bound 
the  human  race  together  in  bonds  of  mutual  debt  ?  Each  one  owes 
something  to  every  other,  and  to  all.  Whatever  God  has  given  to 
one,  which  he  has  not  given  to  all,  is  given  to  be  returned  to  the 
brotherhood  of  earth.  Our  gifts,  our  goods,  our  affections,  —  what- 
ever we  have  which  others  have  not,  we  must  look  upon  as  due  to 
them.  Did  you  not  look  upon  yourself  as  debtor  to  the  children 
you  taught,  to  me,  to  these  little  ones  ?  Is  not  this  your  own  be- 
loved doctrine  ?  Will  you  refuse  to  acknowledge  it  now  ?  Owe 
you  not  to  this  earl  the  acceptance  of  his  thanks  and  help  ?  " 

These  words  were  uttered  slowly  to  an  unwilling  ear.  But  they 
broke  down  the  proud  spirit,  and  accomplished  their  end. 

"  Enough,  Rachel.  I  have  acted  sinfully.  My  lord,  bear  with 
a  man  vexed  and  irritated  by  the  unusual  events  of  this  day.  I 
accept  your  kind  offer ;  and  will  gladly  return  with  you  to  the 
castle,  and  renew  my  request  to-morrow." 

The  earl  was  touched.  He  had  learned  a  lesson  this  day  which 
had  at  once  humbled  and  exalted  him  ;  with  a  truer  feeling  towards 
his  brother  man  than  had  ever  stirred  in  his  bosom  hitherto,  he  re- 
plied, — 

"  Duncan,  I  will  more  than  grant  your  request.  You  shall 
abide  on  our  estate,  and  be  provided  there  with  a  school  worthy  of 
you." 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  A  handsome  school  was  built  for 
Duncan  within  a  mile  from  the  castle.  Better  days  dawned  on  him 
and  his  brave  Rachel.  On  looking  back,  he  felt  that  he  had  been  truly 
led  by  a  way  he  knew  not,  not  merely  to  improved  circumstances, 
but  to  clearer  apprehensions  of  the  duty  which  man  everywhere 
owes  to  man.  He  never  ceased  to  impress  on  his  own  children  that 
a  poor  man  may  be  as  proud  as  a  peer,  and  as  inconsiderately  with^ 
hold  what  he  owes  to  his  titled  brother. 


NOTES  Of  k  mmmi  acboss  tie 

ISTHMUS    OF   FAMIA. 


We  left  New  York  on  the  17th  of  July ;  and  on  the  28th  of 
the  same  month  cast  anchor  before  Chagres,  one  of  the  eastern 
ports  of  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  A  leaden  sky,  a  humid  and 
oppressive  atmosphere,  and  peals  of  thunder,  that  were  echoed  from 
the  depths  of  the  close  woods,  contributed  not  a  little  to  give  a  mel- 
ancholy aspect  to  a  port  whose  reputation  for  unhealthiness  has 
eclipsed  even  that  of  Senegal. 

Though  Chagres  is  so  conveniently  situated  between  the  two 
oceans,  and  the  two  lines  of  steam  navigation  that  connect  the 
United  States  with  California,  it  is  but  a  miserable  village,  com- 
posed of  a  few  Indian  huts,  which  are  constructed  of  wood  and 
stubble,  and  stand  on  each  side  of  the  river.  The  streets  are  complete 
puddles  during  the  rainy  season,  which  occurs  in  winter.  This 
season  is  most  fatal  to  health,  because  of  the  humid  heat  that  pre- 
vails, and  the  deleterious  miasma  which  is  disengaged  from  all  parts 
of  the  soil.  Serious  maladies  may  be  contracted  within  a  few  hours ; 
and  strangers  are  eager  to  leave  this  inhospitable  place.  The  boat- 
men of  the  river  Chagres,  who  were  formerly  hard  put  to  it  to  earn 
a  miserable  subsistence,  now  gain  very  considerably  by  the  American 
emigration  to  California,  and  the  haste  of  travellers  to  leave  this 
noxious  coast  and  get  up  the  river  to  Panama.  In  order  to  secure 
their  own  price  from  the  poor  strangers  at  their  mercy,  they  take 
care  only  to  exhibit  a  small  number  of  boats  while  there  are  plenty 
more  out  of  sight  along  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river. 

We  left  Chagres  on  the  30th  July.  The  entrance  of  the  river 
presented  a  most  rich  and  beautiful  aspect.  Palms  and  cocoa-nut 
trees,  and  other  gigantic  productions  of  the  climate,  made  two  bar- 
riers on  either  side  the  stream  of  impenetrable  verdure.    Their  long 

(8C) 


A   JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE    ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA.  87 

branches,  gracefully  inclining  over  the  water,  projected  afar  their 
splendid  shadows,  by  which  the  voyager  was  only  too  happy  to  profit. 
The  first  impression  produced  by  the  sight  of  this  luxuriance  of 
nature  is  that  of  profound  admiration  ;  to  which  shortly  succeeds 
a  vague  sinking  of  the  spirits.  This  doubtless  proceeds  from  the 
enervating  odors  sent  forth  by  tropical  vegetation,  and  from  the 
gases  produced  by  the  soil  of  the  plants,  whose  absorption,  emission, 
and  flow  of  sap,  acquire,  in  the  heat  and  humidity  to  which  they 
are  constantly  subjected,  an  extraordinary  energy.  Alternately  peace- 
ful as  a  lake,  and  impetuous  as  a  cataract,  this  river  seems  to  pride 
itself  in  its  violent  contrasts.  Its  habitual  visitors  were  more  sur- 
prised than  frightened  by  our  approach.  Here  the  wild  turkey-hen, 
with  plumage  of  ebony,  sailed  round  a  palm  tree,  slowly  beating  the 
air  with  her  heavy  wings.  Further  on  were  clouds  of  paroquets, 
gay  with  a  thousand  tints,  and  uttering  their  sharp,  provoking  cries. 
From  time  to  time  we  could  distinguish,  in  the  middle  of  the  thick- 
ets, the  scaly  and  yellowish  bodies  of  alligators,  which  are  very 
common  on  the  borders  of  the  Chagres,  where  they  wait  entire 
hours  for  their  prey,  in  a  state  of  perfect  immobility. 

We  were  not  long  in  arriving  at  a  filthy  hamlet,  named  Gatoung. 
There  are  few  things  so  comical  as  a  disembarkation  in  this  country. 
The  moment  you  place  your  foot  upon  the  soil,  which  is  nothing 
but  mud,  it  sinks  beneath  your  feet ;  and  it  is  not  without  a  great 
deal  of  trouble,  and  often  at  the  sacrifice  of  your  boots,  which  are 
left  imbedded  in  the  dirt,  that  you  at  length  gain  the  top  of  the 
slope.  We  were  ignorant,  when  we  quitted  New  York,  that  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama  was  altogether  without  resources.  We  had  not 
therefore  been  careful  to  lay  in  a  store  of  victuals  necessary  for  our 
journey ;  and  a  little  sea  biscuit  and  a  few  pots  of  preserves  com- 
posed all  our  stock.  Our  halt  at  Gatoung  gave  us  the  opportunity 
of  visiting  several  Indian  huts,  where  we  met  with  the  most  hospi- 
table welcome,  and  we  profited  by  this  reception  to  try  to  procure 
some  food.  They  at  length  directed  us  to  a  habitation  where  the 
inmates  had  a  pot  on  the  fire ;  the  preparation  of  an  otta  of  rice 
was  quite  an  event  in  the  district.  A  few  crown-pieces  obtained 
us  a  portion  of  this  modest  repast,  and  we  succeeded  besides  in  dis- 
covering in  a  neighboring  hut  a  stray  bottle  of  Xeres.  Having  for- 
gotten to  bring  rain-water  from  Chagres,  we  found  ourselves  reduced 
to  quench  our  thirst  with  the  unhealthy  water  of  the  river,  the 
crudity  of  which  it  was  well  to  correct  with  a  few  drops  of  a  spirit- 
uous liquor,  even  after  it  had  been  filtered.  One  of  our  number 
had  fortunately  brought  with  him  a  filter,  which  enabled  us  to  ob- 
tain a  passable  draught.     Thirst  13  perhaps  the  most  dangeroos 


88  A   JOURNEY    ACROSS   THE    ISTHMUS    OF    PANAMA. 

enemy  one  has  to  encounter  on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  I  have 
seen  more  than  one  American  pay  with  his  life  for  the  fatal  habit  of 
listening  to  the  temptations  of  this  demon. 

Continuing  our  route,  night  surprised  us,  and  lent  a  new  aspect  to 
the  surrounding  scene.  The  majestic  shadows  of  the  huge  trees 
upon  the  waters  —  the  pale  rays  of  the  moon,  that  made  the  river 
like  a  sheet  of  silver  —  the  silence  around,  uninterrupted  save  by 
the  regular  strokes  of  the  oars,  and  the  cries  of  the  night  birds,  all 
contributed  to  the  fascination  of  the  hour.  At  length  we  arrived 
at  a  small  creek,  where  our  old  pilot  made  us  remain  until  sunrise. 

Towards  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  we  arrived  at  the  village 
of  Pedro  Blanco,  where,  after  long  and  troublesome  negotiations, 
we  succeeded  in  obtaining  a  little  rice  for  supper.  Two  of  my 
travelling  companions,  who  had  been  exploring  'the  neighboring 
forest,  brought  in  a  couple  of  pretty  paroquets,  which  were  soon 
plucked,  and  added  as  a  relish  to  our  rice.  But  the  flesh  of  this 
bird  is  far  from  equalling  its  plumage ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
good- will  of  our  sportsmen,  they  were  compelled  to  pronounce  their 
game  horribly  tough. 

The  next  day  the  boatmen  substituted  the  palanca  for  the  oar. 
The  palanca  is  a  long  pole,  terminating  in  an  iron  point,  which  is 
pushed  into  the  bed  of  the  river,  or  into  the  roots  or  trunks  of  the 
trees,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  shove  the  boat  onwards,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible avoiding  the  current.  This  mode  of  propulsion,  more  efficacious 
than  the  oar,  has  likewise  the  merit  of  beins;  less  fatisiiuino:.  But 
it  exposes  the  passengers  to  certain  dangers,  and  this  was  to  be  our 
day  of  misfortunes.  One  of  the  boatmen,  by  some  awkwardness, 
lost  his  palanca.  The  boat,  which  had  been  adroitly  guided  close 
along  the  bank  of  the  stream,  ceded  to  the  impetuosity  of  the  cur- 
rent, which  was  not  to  be  mastered  by  an  unequal  number  of  palati- 
cas^  and  was  driven  against  an  enormous  trunk  of  a  submerged  tree 
in  the  middle  of  the  river.  The  frightful  force  of  the  shock  staved 
in  our  front  plank.  The  water  began  to  pour  in,  and  we  saw  our- 
selves on  the  point  of  capsizing,  without  the  power  of  leaving  the 
boat,  shut  in  as  we  were  by  its  roof  of  branches  and  our  numerous 
packages.  But  we  escaped  this  danger  by  a  species  of  miracle,  and  the 
current,  carrying  us  rapidly  on,  left  the  poor  Indian,  who  had  lost 
his  palanca,  suspended  in  the  air  to  the  bough  of  a  tree,  which  he 
had  seized  with  all  his  strength  to  avert  the  violence  of  the  shock. 
Seeing  us  leaving  him  rapidly  behind,  he  at  length  allowed  himself 
to  drop  into  the  water,  and  swam  ashore.  The  two  men  who  now 
remained  shoved  the  boat  towards  a  creek,  where  we  found  a  shelter 


A   JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE   ISTHMUS    OF   PANAMA.  89 

for  the  night,  and  where  the  other  Indian  shortly  afterwards 
rejoined  ns.     Here  we  repaired  the  damage  we  had  received. 

This  night,  another  boat,  containing  several  Americans,  was 
moored  beside  ours.  The  desperate  condition  of  one  of  their 
number  had  compelled  them  to  halt.  The  unhappy  man  had  been 
suddenly  attacked  by  cholera,  after  drinking  a  little  milk  and  eat- 
ing several  oranges.  I  shall  never  forget  the  night  that  we  passed 
beside  the  poor  sufferer,  who,  far  from  his  family  and  all  remedies, 
was  fast  approaching  his  end,  without  even  a  bed  to  lie  upon.  His 
companions  unceasingly  administered  eau-de-vie,  which  had  no 
other  effect  but  to  accelerate  the  disease.  The  plaintive  groans  of 
the  wretched  man  hindered  us  from  shutting  our  eyes  for  a  moment, 
and  at  the  same  time  recalled  the  dangers  to  which  we  ourselves 
were  exposed  in  that  frightful  climate.  The  next  morning  he  was 
no  more  :  and  his  friends  were  obliaiedto  bes;  the  assistance  of  their 
boatmen,  and  of  some  inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  hamlet,  in 
rendering  the  last  duties  to  his  remains. 

Having  now  repaired  the  breach  in  our  plank,  we  would  have 
continued  our  route,  but  one  of  the  men,  retained  by  the  hope  of 
participating  in  the  benefits  of  the  interment,  opposed  our  depart- 
ure. Hoping,  doubtless,  to  moderate  my  eagerness  to  continue  the 
journey,  he  said,  pointing  at  the  same  time  to  the  corpse  of  the 
American  with  a  significant  smile  —  *'Este  muerto  y  od  esta 
enfermo"  (he  is  dead,  and  you  are  ill)  ;  an  observation  far  from 
reassuring  to  a  traveller  laboring  under  a  slight  attack  of  fever  in 
an  unhealthy  climate.  The  interment  over,  and  the  piastres  pock- 
eted, our  phlegmatic  boatmen  decided  upon  continuing  the  voyage. 
The  banks  of  the  river  now  began  to  lose  their  grand  and  pictu- 
resque aspect,  which  they  had  owed  to  the  beauty  and  density  of 
the  woods  with  which  they  were  clothed.  We  terminated  happily 
a  day  so  ill  commenced,  and  arrived  at  night  at  the  village  of  San 
Pablo. 

The  next  morning,  at  a  little  distance  from  a  small  town  named 
Gorgona,  we  perceived  an  American  steamboat  abandoned  in  the 
river.  The  numerous  obstacles  it  had  encountered  had  completely 
disabled  it  after  only  a  few  voyages.  In  order  to  secure  a  safe  nav- 
igation for  steamers  of  the  very  smallest  dimensions,  the  Rio 
Chagres  ought  to  be  completely  cleared.  It  is  obstructed,  through- 
out the  whole  extent  of  its  course,  by  trunks  of  trees,  often  hidden 
by  merely  a  few  feet  of  water.  While  waiting  for  the  great  roads 
which  the  Americans  intend  to  establish  through  the  isthmus,  it  is 
urgent  that  the  Rio  Chagres  should  be  rendered  navigable.     The 


90  A   JOURNEY    ACROSS    THE   ISTHMUS    OP    PANAMA. 

emigrants  and  the  country  generally  have  the  greatest  interest  in 
this  measure. 

The  Chagres  rises  near  Cruces,  a  small  town  situated  about  six 
leagues  from  Panama  and  two  from  Gorgona.  Its  course  is  nearly 
seventeen  leagues.  Travellers,  en  route  for  Panama,  sail  up  it  as 
far  as  Cruces,  which,  besides  being  two  leagues  nearer  than  Gror- 
gon^  to  Panama,  possesses  also  an  ancient  royal  Spanish  road  —  a 
veiy  bad  one,  it  is  true,  but  much  better  than  that  of  which  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  speak.  Most  of  the  Americans  who  landed 
at  Chagres  at  the  same  time  with  our  party  went  on  to  Cruces, 
which  was  likewise  our  first  intention.  But  our  boatmen  and  oth- 
ers assuring  us  that  the  means  of  transport  were  very  rare,  and' 
cholera  and  fever  rife,  we  determined  to  land  at  Grorgona  —  a  reso- 
lution of  which  we  afterwards  had  reason  to  repent.  In  this  coun- 
try a  stranger  cannot  be  too  much  on  his  guard  against  the  mis- 
representations of  the  boatmen,  on  the  one  hand,  whose  interest  it 
is  to  shorten  the  voyage,  and  of  the  inhabitants,  on  the  other,  in 
order  to  secure  to  themselves  the  advantage  of  his  sojourn  in  their 
locality.  There  is  a  regularly  organized  conspiracy  against  his 
purse. 

Gorgona  is,  like  Chagres,  an  irregular  assemblage  of  from  sixty 
to  eighty  huts,  intersected  by  steep  streets,  where  mud  and  water 
replace  the  pavement.  These  habitations  are  but  one  story  high  ; 
they  have  neither  flooring  nor  ceiling,  and  they  are  frequently 
flooded  during  the  rainy  season.  The  town  has  already  its  hotel, 
which  possesses  four  beds,  a  few  hammocks,  no  windows,  but  nu- 
merous holes  in  its  thatched  roof,  which  permit  one  to  contemplate 
the  firmament  when  the  weather  is  fine,  and  favor  the  inmates  with 
gratuitous  'douches  when  it  rains.  The  food  corresponds  with  the 
lodging. 

Contrary  to  what  one  usually  remarks  in  unhealthy  climates,  the 
natives  of  New  Granada  appear  equally  exposed  with  strangers  to 
the  reigning  maladies.  There  is  scarcely  a  hut  where  one  does  not 
encounter  some  poor  wretch  trembling  with  the  calentura,  or  the 
fever.  The  cholera,  likewise,  in  1849,  made  terrible  ravages. 
The  physical  characteristics  of  the  population  are  easily  enumer- 
ated. They  possess  finely-formed  limbs,  equally  vigorous  and 
supple,  copper-colored  skins,  tolerably  regular  features,  and  black 
hair,  but  not  crisp  like  that  of  the  negroes.  The  men  are  gener- 
ally clad  in  a  species  of  shirt,  which  descends  a  little  way  down 
the  leg.  The  women  add  to  this  a  petticoat.  Both  sexes  wear 
straw  hats,  with  broad  brims  to  shade  them  from  the  sun.  The 
inhabitant  of  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  is  kind  and  hospitable.     In 


A   JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE   ISTHMUS    OP   PANAMA.  91 

great  matters  he  may  be  entirely  trusted,  but  it  is  well  to  place 
tempting  trifles  out  of  sight.  He  wants  energy  and  character; 
there  is  no  very  decided  leaning  to  good  or  evil.  An  extreme  filial 
tenderness,  as  among  the  Chinese,  is  the  sole  peculiarity  that 
breaks  in  upon  his  habitual  indifference ;  all  his  faculties  seem  to 
languish  under  the  enervating  ejffects  of  the  climate.  Nothing  is 
more  monotonous  than  rural  life  in  these  countries.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  some  rare  excursions,  the  people  pass  then*  time  in  smoking, 
and  sleeping  in  a  wretched  hut,  scarcely  sheltered  from  sun  and 
rain  by  a  roof  of  palm-leaves.  Many  huts  are  formed  of  nothing 
but  four  stakes  supporting  a  species  of  loft,  where  the  family  pass 
the  night  extended  upon  mats,  and  to  which  they  mount  by  the 
trunk  of  a  tree,  notched  at  regular  distances,  so  as  to  serve  for  a 
ladder.  The  domestic  utensils  consist  of  one  or  two  kettles,  and  a 
few  large  jars,  of  a  spherical  form,  which  hold  rice  and  rain-water. 
They  light  a  fire  on  the  ground,  and  cook  in  the  open  air.  Men 
and  women  eat  squatted  upon  their  heels ;  and  the  use  of  tobacco 
is  common  to  both  sexes. 

Grorgona  possesses  an  alcade,to  whom  we  were  obliged  to  address 
ourselves  for  the  fifteen  or  twenty  mules  which  were  needed  to  con- 
vey us  and  our  luggage  to  Panama.  The  complaisant  magistrate 
placed  himself  at  our  service,  and  promised  us  an  unlimited  num- 
ber of  these  rare  and  indispensable  quadrupeds.  But  time  passed, 
and  the  mules  did  not  appear.  The  travellers  who  had  preceded 
us  had  engrossed  them  all.  We  were  consequently  obliged  to  sep- 
arate for  a  time,  much  against  our  inclination,  and  to  hire  the  mules 
as  they  returned  by  twos  and  threes  to  Grorgona.  The  hire  of  a 
mule  varies  from  eight  to  sixteen  piastres. 

Our  advance  guard,  composed  of  two  mules,  two  Indians,  and 
the  youngest  of  my  fellow-travellers,  set  out  on  the  5th  of  August. 
Impatient  to  arrive  at  Panama,  I  followed  the  next  day,  the  land- 
lord of  the  hotel  having  procured  me  a  little  mare,  and  a  guide 
twelve  years  of  age.  Furnished  with  some  sea-biscuit  and  choco- 
late, my  fusil  strapped  to  my  shoulder,  and  hunting-knife  at  my 
side,  I  mounted  my  pitiful  beast,  after  having  disposed  of  a  water- 
proof cloak  on  its  croup,  and  placed  under  the  saddle  a  blanket, 
which  had  been  of  the  greatest  service.  In  this  fashion  I  left 
Gorgona,  after  having  bidden  adieu  to  my  remaining  comrades, 
who  were  to  rejoin  me  at  Panama  as  soon  as  possible,  bringing  with 
them  our  luggage.  From  the  beginning  of  my  joui-ney,  we  trav- 
ersed most  abominable  roads.  Steep  and  slippery  declivities,  riv- 
ulets, precipices,  narrow  passes,  where  the  rocks  approached  each 
other  so  closely  that  the  mare  could  not  advance  without  the  greft^ 


92  A  JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE   ISTHMUS   OP   PANAMA. 

est  trouble,  and  at  a  sore  expense  to  my  poor  knees,  which  were 
every  moment  grazed  against  their  sharp  edges,  all  announced  a 
tiresome  journey.  I  could  not  avoid  making  comparisons  between 
my  guide  and  my  horse.  The  beast  greatly  exceeded  the  boy  in 
topographical  knowledge ;  and,  with  a  modesty  for  which  I  gave 
him  credit,  the  latter  at  length  resigned  himself  to  the  leading  of 
the  former,  walking-  in  the  rear,  and  only  crying  out,  from  time  to 
time,  aqui  (here),  or  aca  (there).  When  the  branches  of  the 
trees  or  their  overgrown  trunks  barred  further  passage,  my  young 
native  resumed  the  lead,  and  speedily  levelled  the  obstacles  by  the 
aid  of  a  cleaver,  without  which  an  Indian  never  sets  out  on  a  jour- 
ney. Sometimes  the  mare  would  stop  and  inflate  her  nostrils  at 
the  sight  of  a  half-devoured  mule,  regretfully  abandoned  at  the 
noise  of  our  approach  by  the  vultures  that  disputed  its  remains. 
The  poor  beast  was  constantly  knee-deep  in  mud ;  for  what  they 
call  a  road  in  this  country  is  simply  the  bed  of  a  river,  more  or 
less  dry  in  fine  weather,  but  filled  again  by  the  first  heavy  shower. 
Divers  claps  of  thunder  now  announced  the  approach  of  one  of 
those  storms  which  take  place  every  day  during  the  winter,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  inundate  the  country.  Urged  on  by  the  pouring 
rain,  we  reached,  just  in  time,  a  tolerably  large  river,  which  was 
now  forded  without  difficulty,  but  would  have  been  impassable  an 
hour  later.  We  were  luckily  enabled  to  take  refuge  in  a  shed, 
where  I  dried  my  clothes,  and  determined  to  remain  for  the  night. 
The  next  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  we  continued  our  journey. 
In  place  of  the  good  road  I  had  been  led  to  expect,  I  still  encoun- 
tered these  muddy  plains,  and  eternal  hills  bristling  with  rocks. 
At  length  we  reached  a  house  situated  upon  an  elevation  half-way 
between  Grorgona  and  Panama.  Here  we  obtained  some  coffee, 
without  which  I  could  scarcely  have  been  able  to  endure  the 
fatigues  of  the  journey.  At  four,  we  arrived  at  the  last  dwelling 
before  reaching  Panama.  For  one  instant  I  thought  of  passing  the 
night  here ;  but  my  guide  hindered  me  from  following  this  happy 
inspiration,  solemnly  assuring  me  that  we  should  reach  our  destinar 
tion  the  same  evening.  We  therefore  continued  our  way  through 
a  prairie  where  the  road  from  Gorgona  unites  itself  with  that  lead- 
ing to  Cruces,  which,  though  horribly  uneven,  is  at  any  rate  tolera- 
bly free  from  mud.  Here  a  new  annoyance  was  reserved  for  me. 
My  wretched  mare,  accustomed  to  the  worst  roads,  refused  to 
advance  now  that  there  was  a  little  improvement.  I  was  reduced, 
knocked  up  as  I  was,  to  dismount  and  lead  her.  By  blows  and 
cries  we  contrived  to  make  her  advance  a  little  way ;  but  our 
progress  was  so  slow,  that  some  workmen  occupied  in  repairing  the 


A  JOURNEY  ACROSS   THE   ISTHMUS   OP   PANAMA.  93 

road  laughingly  prophesied  that  she  would  never  arrive  at  Panama. 
This  prediction,  confirmed  as  it  was  by  a  feverish  trembling  of  the 
animal,  was  far  from  being  agreeable.  While  thus  slowly  pro- 
gressing, night  surprised  us  —  a  night  of  clouds  and  rain.  The 
obscurity  was  such  that  we  could  not  have  told  where  we  were,  save 
for  the  ignis  fatuus,  the  fire-flies,  and  the  lightning.  At  length, 
unhoped-for  happiness !  we  distinguished  the  barking  of  a  dog,  and 
soon  afterwards  a  light.  We  had  reached  Panama.  The  reader 
may  judge  of  my  satisfaction  on  seeing  the  end  of  my  eight  days 
of  painful  journeying,  accomplished  under  such  disagreeable  cir- 
cumstances. I  quickly  made  my  way  to  the  Hotel  de  France, 
where  I  found  my  young  companion,  who  had  set  out  the  day 
before  me ;  and  there  I  speedily  got  rid  of  the  fever  that  still  hung 
about  me. 

Panama  is  a  ruinous  town,  the  population  of  which  does  not 
exceed  7000  souls.  There  is  nothing  remarkable  about  it  but  the 
immense  number  of  churches,  monuments  of  past  grandeur,  and  now 
invaded  by  creeping-plants  and  turf.  The  bells  of  these  venerable 
edifices  are  half  rusty,  and  morning  and  evening  ring  the  most 
lugubrious  peals.  There  are,  besides,  some  fortifications,  and  a 
dozen  old  guns,  disposed  along  the  rampart  that  faces  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  This  is  a  magnificent  point  of  view,  whence  may  be  seen 
the  church-steeples,  the  vessels  in  the  roadstead,  a  quantity  of 
islets,  and,  about  two  miles  distant,  towards  the  extremity  of  the 
peninsula  upon  which  Panama  is  situated,  the  ruins  of  the  former 
town,  abandoned  during  the  wars  of  the  Hibustiers,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  reiterated  attacks  of  a  famous  pirate. 

Panama  is  traversed  by  two  principal  streets,  containing  a  few- 
tolerable  shops,  and  a  number  of  stalls,  where  they  vend  liquors. 
These  last,  kept  by  obliging  senoritas,  boast  a  sort  of  counter,  and 
are  separated  by  a  screen  from  the  bedchamber,  where  the  indo- 
lent saleswomen  swing  in  their  hammocks  the  greatest  part  of  the 
day,  smoking  their  cigarettes,  and  waiting  for  customers.  The 
houses  are  built  of  stone,  and  ornamented  with  wooden  balconies. 
The  walls  present  that  beautiful  whiteness  which  distinguishes 
Spanish  masonry  in  hot  countries.  But  there  is  nothing  elegant 
about  these  buildings,  and  their  interiors  are  deplorable.  The 
rooms  are  almost  destitute  of  furniture;  curtains  are  unknown, 
even  in  the  governor's  palace  ;  and  it  would  be  hard  to  find  in  the 
whole  town  a  good  bed  or  a  safe  lock.  The  pavements  and  foot- 
paths respond  to  the  houses. 

The  climate  of  this  town  is  unhealthy,  especially  during  the  winter 
rains,  which  commence  in  May,  and  end  in  October  or  November. 


94  A   JOURNEY   ACBOSS   THE   ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA. 

» 

The  complexions  of  the  inhabitants  evince  the  noxious  influence  of 
vitiated  air.  Fevers  are  very  common  among  the  natives,  as  also 
mephitic  colic,  induced  by  tht  badness  of  the  water,  in  drinking 
which  one  cannot  be  too  cautious. 

The  population  of  Panama  is  composed  of  ancient  Spanish  fam- 
ilies, natives,  and  half-breeds.  The  costume  of  both  men  and 
women  is  European,  a  little  degenerated  and  simplified,  to  suit  the 
climate.  The  women  go  with  the  head  uncovered,  and  decorate 
their  black  tresses  with  flowers  of  penetrating  odor.  Without  being 
beautiful,  their  features  are  agreeable  enough,  and  they  have  a  good 
deal  of  grace  and  coquetry  about  them.  The  habitual  indiflerence  of 
the  inhabitants  is  strongly  contrasted  by  the  bowlings  and  clamor 
that  accompany  their  funeral  ceremonies.  These  lamentations, 
however,  appear  to  be  hired.  Their  interments  are  managed  after  a 
singular  fashion,  as  they  employ  a  species  of  omnibus  coffin,  in 
which  they  place  the  corpse,  to  carry  it  to  the  cemetery.  Once 
arrived  there,  they  take  the  body  from  the  bier,  and  throw  it  at 
once  into  a  fosse,  returning  with  the  empty  coffin. 

The  natives  patronize  music,  and  other  amusements,  among 
which  may  be  reckoned  cock-fighting.  But  the  sicknesses,  which,  in 
1849,  clothed  nearly  every  family  in  mourning,  have  put  an  end 
to  the  fetes,  and  thrown  over  all  a  tinge  of  distress  and  fear. 

The  public  works  are  executed  by  convicts,  who  are  seen  passing 
every  instant  under  military  escort.  These  guardians  appear 
very  polite  to  their  prisoners,  for,  if  any  of  the  latter  are  stopped  in 
the  streets  by  an  acquaintance,  the  soldiers  stop  also,  and  wait  very 
tranquilly  until  the  convicts  are  pleased  to  continue  their  way. 

Panama  possesses  three  or  four  hotels,  which,  upon  our  arrival, 
we  found  crowded  with  travellers.  Eight,  ten,  fifteen  were  sleep- 
ing in  the  same  chamber,  upon  hard  rope  beds,  without  mattresses. 
The  charge  of  a  week's  lx)ard  and  lodging  varied  from  $6  75  to  $7 
50  cents,  without  reckoning  wine,  which  costs  from  37  cents  to  75 
cents  the  bottle  for  ordinary  Bordeaux.  Meat  and  fruit  abound, 
but  vegetables  are  very  rare.  We  had  taken  up  our  abode  in  the 
Hotel  de  France,  situated  in  one  of  the  healthiest  quarters  of  the 
town;  and  here  the  companions  whom  we  had  left  at  Gorgona 
hastened  to  rejoin  us. 

The  crowd  of  emigrants,  though  still  very  considerable,  was  infi- 
nitely less  than  it  had  been  for  some  months  previously,  for  thou- 
sands of  Americans  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  the  place,  and 
return  home,  in  default  of  financial  resources,  or  means  of  transport 
to  California.  Never  have  I  seen  more  deplorable  figures  than 
those  of  the  poor  Yankees,  congregated  in  this  little  town,  dragging 


A   JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE   ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA.  95 

tiiemselves  painfully  along  the  streets,  some  under  the  influence  of 
fever,  others  under  the  curse  of  idleness,  disputing  with  oaths  and 
imprecations  upon  the  easiest  and  cheapest  modes  of  reaching  San 
Francisco,  parading  their  bad-humor  from  stall  to  stall,  which  they 
endeavor  to  dissipate  by  reiterated  doses  of  brandy,  and  then  hast- 
ening to  throw  away  the  little  money  they  have  left,  in  gaming- 
houses, the  last  hope  of  these  poor  idlers.  Once  ruined,  the  Yankee 
becomes  himself  again  —  that  is  to  say,  the  most  industrious  and 
enterprising  of  men.  He  finds  a  thousand  resources,  he  invents  a 
hundred  modes  of  making  money.  One  will  engage  himself  as  a 
sailor,  another  as  a  cook,  a  third  opens  a  shop  at  Panama,  and,  a 
few  weeks  afterwards,  procures  some  lots  of  goods  to  be  assigned  to 
him.  He  then  commences  selling,  at  magnificent  prices,  assortments 
of  American  boots,  harder  than  wood,  and  newly-invented  coats, 
that  would  have  mouldered  away  at  San  Francisco  without  attract- 
ing a  single  admirer.  '  A  number  of  articles,  in  fact,  find  a  far 
readier  sale  at  ports  situated  on  the  way  to  California,  than  in  the 
country  itself,  which  is  inundated  with  products  of  all  species. 

In  the  mixture  of  the  floating  and  the  indigenous  population  of 
Panama  there  is  a  most  striking  contrast  between  an  almost  extinct 
civilization  and  a  spirit  of  young  and  powerful  enterprise,  full  of 
nerve  and  promise  for  the  future.  The  hoary  steeples,  these  deserted 
monuments,  attest  the  former  magnificence  of  the  place,  the  wretched 
inhabitants  of  which  are,  without  doubt,  the  descendants  of  the  proud 
and  brilliant  chevaliers  of  other  days.  All  is  poetry  and  grandeur 
in  the  past ;  in  the  present,  silence  and  decay.  But  mark  those 
columns  of  smoke,  those  pantings  proceeding  from  the  huge  lungs  of 
the  steam-monsters  in  the  roadstead.  Those  large  vessels  are 
freighted  with  passengers  furnished  with  every  species  of  instrument. 
They  go  to  acquire  wealth,  to  organize  a  new  state ;  how  difierently 
from  the  soldiers  of  Cortez  and  Pizarro  !  Happier  than  these,  it  is 
neither  at  the  price  of  their  own  blood,  nor  that  of  the  peaceable 
inhabitants  of  the  gold  country,  that  they  conduct  their  future  oper- 
ations. Thanks  to  them,  Panama  already  beholds  the  commence- 
ment of  a  new  prosperity.  Whether  the  project  of  a  railway 
through  the  Isthmus  replace  that  of  the  Nicaraguan  canal,  or  simply 
a  good  road  for  ordinary  communication  from  Chagres  to  Panama, 
the  future  prosperity  of  this  town  is  assured.  A  point  of  junction 
between  the  two  Americas,  a  feeble  barrier  to  the  two  oceans,  it  in 
one  of  the  places  marked  out  by  the  hand  of  Providence  for  the  re- 
union of  nations  —  a  belt  of  land  that  will  serve  for  the  migrations 
of  races,  and  bring  the  United  States  nearer  to  China  by  soma 
thousands  of  miles. 


96 


A   JOURNEY   ACROSS   THE  ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA. 


The  Isthmus  of  Panama,  notwithstanding  its  extreme  fertility,  ia 
but  slightly  cultivated ;  yet  the  rare  agricultural  experiments 
attempted  by  Europeans  in  these  parts  have  been  attended  by  mag- 
nificent results.  With  a  little  industry,  some  instruments  of  labor, 
and  collected  capitals,  immense  fortunes  might  be  made.  But  there 
are  no  journals  to  record  these  facts,  and  no  one  dreams  of  settling 
here.  The  Californian  torrent  still  rolls  on,  to  endure  privations 
and  dangers  in  a  country  denuded  of  vegetation,  the  climate  and 
salubrity  of  which  even  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  needs  not  to  envy. 

Sailing  vessels  frequently  arrive  at  this  port  in  search  of  pas- 
sengers for  California,  and  make  a  lucrative  afiair  of  it.  Many 
travellers,  disappointed  in  the  regular  means  of  transport,  avail 
themselves  with  blind  eagerness  of  any  opportunities  of  quitting 
Panama,  without  considering  that  sailing  vessels  are  frequently,  in 
these  seas,  exposed  to  dead  calms,  and  are  consequently  incalculably 
delayed. 


THE    TWO    PAvSSPOETS. 


In  the  autumn  of  1830,  being  engaged  in  a  tour  of  the  Rhenish 
provinces,  I  arrived  one  evening  about  dusk  at  the  small  town  of 
Bergheim,  some  half  way  between  Aix  la  Chapelle  and  the  fragrant 
city  of  Cologne.  Bergheim  has  a  quiet,  comfortable  inn,  at  which 
Michel,  my  voiturier,  (who  was  absolute  in  these  matters,)  had 
ordained  that  I  should  stop  for  the  night ;  nor  did  I  feel  any  dispo- 
sition to  quarrel  with  the  arrangement,  when  Herr  Hons,  the  land- 
lord, all  civility  and  broken  English,  ushered  me  into  his  snug 
Speisesaal,  where,  instead  of  the  dull,  uncompanionable  German 
stove  I  expected  to  find,  a  bright  and  crackling  wood-fire  blazed 
merrily  on  the  hearth.  I  was  glad,  moreover,  not  to  find  myself 
the  sole  occupant  of  the  saal,  for,  after  all,  it  may  be  doubted 
whether  the  chief  pleasure  of  travel  be  not  to  see  travellers ;  and  I 
will  confess,  for  my  own  part,  that,  —  without  disparagement  either 
of  snowy  Alps  or  cindery  volcanoes,  of  a  Strasburg  cathedral  or  of 
a  Basilica  vaticana,  of  Florence  galleries  or  of  Roman  ruins  —  to 
me  the  people  of  any  country  (with  one  sole  exception)  rank  by  no 
means  among  its  least  interesting  features.  My  exception  is  Swit- 
zerland, where,  between  the  glorious  earth,  and  the  inglorious  race 
that  possesses  it,  the  extremes  of  grandeur  and  littleness  are  brought 
into  too  painful  juxtaposition  and  contrast.  Nothing  can  stand 
Higher  in  the  scale  of  nature  than  Switzerland  —  nothing  in  that  of 
manhood  lower  than  the  Swiss. 

In  the  Speisesaal,  then,  at  Bergheim,  it  was  my  fortune  to  light 
upon  two  goodly  tomes  (if  I  may  so  phrase  it)  of  "  the  proper  study 
of  mankind :"  they  were,  moreover,  to  give  the  coup  de  grace  to 
my  metaphor,  controversial,  and  on  opposite  sides  of  the  question  as 
irell  as  of  the  fire.  In  other  words,  there  sat,  installed  each  in  his 
jhimney-corner,  and  armed  —  the  one  with  a  cigar,  the  other  with  a 
eighty  pendulous  pipe  —  two  "  dim  smokified  men,"  plainly  Ger- 

7  (97) 


9g  THE   TWO    PASSPORTS. 


mans  both,  though  widely  dissimilar  specimens  of  that  very  hetero« 
geneous  and  multiform  variety  of  human  kind,  engaged  when  I 
entered,  in  a  conversation  (or,  to  name  it  in  their  own  way,  a  'twixi 
speaking)  the  more  vivacious  for  the  considerable  discrepancy  mani- 
fest in  the  sentiments  of  the  speakers.  The  cigarist  was  a  pale, 
slight,  voluble  creature,  under-sized  and  yet  stooping,  long-armed, 
round-shouldered,  narrow-chested,  using  a  great  deal  of  gesticulation 
as  he  talked,  and  by  a  particular  uniform  drawing-out  of  the  right 
arm,  and  a  remarkable  flourish,  or  rather  twitch,  of  the  right  hand, 
(the  left  being  comparatively  at  rest,)  as  well  as  by  a  look,  not  eas- 
ily defined,  of  inefficiency  and  dubious  fidget  about  the  lower  extrem- 
ities, as  if  they  were  not  in  their  accustomed  position,  giving  you 
assurance  of  a  taUor,  as  unequivocally  as  if  he  had  chosen  to  sit  on 
the  table  instead  of  at  it ;  while  his  sharp  intonation,  round-about 
fluency,  mincing  utterance,  occasional  lapses  into  a  Low  Dutch  dia- 
lect, frequent  exclamations  of  "  yuter  Yott  I  "  and  continued  inter- 
chano^ing  of  the  pronouns  mir  and  mich^  and  Sie  and  Ihnen,  certi- 
fied you  with  equal  infallibility  of  a  Prussian,  and  truly  no  Rhenish 
Prussian,  but  a  genuine  nursling  of  Royal  Berlin  herself 

He  of  the  meerschaum  was  a  man  of  another  stamp ;  tall,  and 
bulky,  yet  well  knit,  broad  of  brow  and  chest,  quiet  in  manner, 
earnest  but  brief  in  speech,  saying  in  three  words  what  would  have 
cost  his  opponent  three  dozen,  and,  now  and  then,  though  not  often, 
letting  fall  a  large  and  somewhat  rusty-colored,  though  perfectly 
clean  hand,  with  the  dunt  of  a  sledge-hammer,  on  the .  table  that 
stood  near  him.  You  would  judge  him  to  be  a  grave  man,  yet  capa- 
ble of  much  joviality,  straightforward,  and  hearty,  and  leal,  and 
who  could  find  his  way  pretty  far  down  into  the  wine-stoup,  as 
every  German  should.  By  many  outward  signs,  I  set  him  down  for  a 
worker  in  iron,  and  by  his  speech,  with  more  certainty,  for  a  Sua- 
bian  ;  nor  was  I  mistaken  on  either  point. 

On  my  entering  the  room,  with  German  courtesy  they  both 
ceased  smoking,  until  assured  by  me  that  neither  to  cigar  nor  pipe, 
as  long  as  they  were  in  anybody's  mouth  but  my  own,  had  I  the 
smallest  objection;  then  sitting  down  in  front  of  the  fire,  while 
Herr  Honns  saw  to  the  due  setting  out  of  the  supper,  I  entreated 
that  my  presence  might  not  interrupt  the  conversation  in  which  I 
found  my  companions  engaged,  adding  that  I  had  a  sufficient 
acquaintance  with  their  language  to  promise  myself  much  interest, 
and  no  doubt  instruction,  in  hearing  it  continued.  Accordingly,  in 
five  minutes  they  were  battling  away  as  briskly  as  ever. 

"  Fixed  fate,  free  will,  foreknowledge  absolute,"  were,  I  found 
the  pleasant  after-dinner  topics  that  occupied  this  curiously  con- 


THE   TWO    PASSPORTS.  99 


trasted  pair,  whose  birth-places  were  not  more  widely  asunder  than 
their  habits  or  thoughts,  and  in  whose  handicrafts,  persons,  and 
respective  provincialisms  of  speech  there  were  fewer  and  less  strik- 
ing dissimilarities,  than  in  their  views  of  things  in  general.  The 
tailor,  one  could  gather,  had  been  a  free-thinker  of  the  French 
school,  but  now  eschewed  that  as  rococo,  and  professed  the  new  and 
more  fashionable  German  irreligion  of  pantheism,  or  Christianity 
according  to  Hegel,  upon  which  his  tongue  ran  —  I  will  not  say 
right  on,  but  round  about,  through  all  the  queer  crinkles  and 
Gordian  complexities  of  German  sentence-weaving.  The  man  of 
iron,  on  the  other  hand,  was  Old-Lutheran  to  the  back-bone,  and 
beyond  it,  and  believed  and  spoke  as  his  fathers  had  believed  and 
spoken  from  the  sixteenth  century  downwards ;  his  words  bearing 
much  the  same  proportion,  whether  for  weight  or  rapidity,  to  those 
of  his  antagonist,  that  the  sledge-hammer,  with  its  measured  and 
mighty  downright  strokes,  may  bear  to  the  briskest  possible  plying 
of  the  finest  possible  needle. 

At  length,  (not  to  make  my  preface  longer  than  my  story,)  roused 
by  some  reference  made  in  a  tone  of  derision,  by  the  latter,  to  the 
doctrine  of  a  particular  providence,  our  Suabian  exclaimed,  with  a 
vehemence  which  he  had  not  before  displayed,  "  Ay !  you  take 
credit  to  yourself  for  being  hard  of  faith,  and  yet  can  believe  the 
wonderful  and  mysterious  ordering  of  our  steps,  of  which  every 
reflecting  man  must  be  conscious,  to  be  the  work  of  blind  haphaz- 
ard !  How  often  are  our  best  considered  and  most  promising  plans 
thwarted,  defeated  by  some  influence  which  we  cannot  trace,  but 
which,  after  the  first  emotions  of  irritation  and  disappointment  are 
passed,  we  are  constrained  to  acknowledge  has  wrought  for  our 
good,  perhaps  for  our  salvation !  How  often  does  some  trifling  cir- 
cumstance, productive  at  the  moment  of  its  occurrence  only  of  petty 
annoyance,  prove  to  be  the  means  which  a  benign  and  watchful 
Providence  had  ordained  for  our  rescue  from  some  impending  evil, 
which  we  had  not  so  much  as  dreamed  of!  I  knew  a  man  once 
who  walked  in  his  sleep,  and  was  one  night  within  five  feet  of  a 
precipice  more  than  a  hundred  feet  high,  when  a  bat  flew  in  his  face 
and  waked  him.  And  you  would  call  that  chance !  Well,  I  will 
hope  your  error  is  more  of  the  head  than  the  heart ;  that  you  are  an 
obtuse  rather  than  an  ungrateful  man.  You  have  not  experienced 
in  your  own  life  any  striking,  any  startling  instance  of  the  working 
of  power  above  you,  caring  for  you,  taking  thought  for  you,  dispos- 
ing otherwise  indeed  than  you  had  proposed,  but  even  thereby 
plucking  your  feet  from  the  trap  which  the  devil,  in  his  cunning, 
had  by  your  own  hands  set  for  them     /  have.     And  with  the 


100  THE    TWO   PASSPORTS. 


proofs  which  my  own  experience  has  furnished  me  of  the  good 
providence  of  God,  I  were  deserving  to  be  called,  by  unbelievers 
themselves,  the  unthankfulest  of  human  souls,  could  I  believe,  or 
affect  to  believe,  the  disposal  of  man's  ways  to  be  committed  to  blind 
haphazard !  You  shall  hear,  you  shall  judge  whether  it  be  not  as  I 
say ;  that  is,  if  mein  Herr  here  will  not  be  wearied  by  a  story  in 
which  I  must  figure  as  my  own  hero." 

I  assured  him  that  it  would  be  a  high  gratification  to  me  to  hear 
his  story.  The  tailor  put  on  the  face  of  one  who  resigned  himself 
to  the  inevitable,  and  the  Suabian  began  as  follows  : 

"  I  am  a  Wurtemberger  by  birth,  though  the  greater  part  of  my 
life  has  been  spent  out  of  my  native  land,  and  especially  at  Ham- 
burg, where  I  served  my  apprenticeship  under  my  father's  brother, 
who  was  likewise  my  godfather,  and  gave  me  his  own  name,  Carolus 
Eisenkrafft,  at  the  font :  a  kindly  Suabian  he  was,  and  one,  though 
I  say  it,  that,  in  his  own  craft,  had  his  match  to  seek  in  Hamburg, 
or  out  of  it.  I  continued  to  work  with  him  about  a  year  after  my 
time  was  out ;  and  then,  being  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  wishing 
to  see  other  countries,  and  being,  indeed,  by  the  rules  of  our  trade, 
obliged  to  travel  for  a  certain  time,  and  learn  the  modes  of  work 
practised  in  different  cities  and  lands,  before  I  could  be  received  as 
a  free  brother  of  the  craft,  and  set  up  in  business  for  myself,  I  set 
out  from  Hamburg,  and  travelled  across  East  Friesland  to  the 
lower  Rhine  lands,  and  so  took  the  course  of  the  river  upwards  into 
Switzerland. 

"  I  did  not  stay  long  there.  Switzerland  was  then,  as  now,  a 
ooimtry  in  which  little  good  was  to  be  learned,  and  much  evil. 
However,  I  left  it  with  the  same  true  German  heart  which  I  had 
brought  into  it,  hating  the  French,  with  an  honest  Suabian  hatred, 
from  Bonaparte  down  to  the  drura-boy.  Now  this  was  in  the  year 
1806,  which,  as  you  know,  was  no  year  of  peace  for  Europe,  least 
of  all  for  our  dear  German  fatherland ;  and,  in  the  journey  which  I  had 
before  me,  perils  of  many  kinds,  and  from  many  very  different  quar- 
ters, might  be  anticipated ;  nevertheless,  my  mind  was  made  up  not 
to  lose  any  more  time  in  Switzerland,  for  the  year  was  advanced ; 
and  I  was  resolved  that  the  beginning  of  the  winter  should  see  me 
again  in  Hamburg.  After  all,  for  the  workman  that  combines 
industry  with  skill,  there  is  but  one  Hamburg,  just  as  I  am  told 
there  is  but  one  Paris  for  folks  that  have  money,  and  seek  a  way  to 
spend  it,  which,  I  thank  my  good  destiny,  is  not  my  case. 

"  In  my  journey  southwards,  I  had  avoided  Wurtemberg,  keep- 
ing strictly  to  the  course  of  the  Rhine,  though  I  confess  that,  as  I 
passed  the  mouth  of  the  Neckar,  my  heart  strayed  away  up  its 


THE    TWO    PASSPORTS.  101 


waters  to  my  Suabiaa  home,  and  I  looked  with  loving  eyes  on  the  soil 
it  had  carried  down  from  the  green  valley  of  my  childhood.  Now, 
however,  on  my  way  to  the  north  again,  I  said, '  I  will  see  the  familiar 
fields  and  the  familiar  faces  once  more ;  I  will  take  a  last  leave  of 
the  hills  and  valleys  in  which  my  earliest  years  passed  so  happily, 
and  of  the  dear  ones  that  still  dwell  there.'  A  last  leave  —  for 
you  will  observe,  that  in  Wurtemberg,  at  this  time,  I  was  liable  to 
be  shot  as  a  deserter ;  not  that  I  had  ever  taken  military  service, 
but  just  this  was  my  crime  :  I  was,  as  I  have  told  you,  one-and- 
twenty ;  and  at  that  period,  in  "Wurtemberg,  all  healthy  males  of 
this  age  were  drawn  for  soldiers.  Such  was  the  conscription-law, 
which  it  was  death  to  evade.  To  enter  Wurtemberg  as  a  Wurtem- 
berger,  was  to  subject  myself  to  it ;  and  my  first  step,  did  I  wish  to 
avoid  a  disgraceful  death,  must  have  been  to  present  myself  to  take 
my  chance  of  being  drawn ;  whereunto,  I  now  take  shame  to  myself 
in  saying,  my  inclinations  in  no  ways  leaned.  TVTiat,  then,  was  to 
be  done  ?  If  I  visited  my  native  place,  it  must  be  in  the  character 
of  a  stranger ;  and  this  was  the  course  on  which  I  resolved.  In 
short,  I  conceived  the  blamable  determination  of  providing  myself 
with  a  false  passport  in  Switzerland,  that  so  I  might  with  safety 
take  my  fatherland  in  my  route  to  the  northern  states. 

"  By  means  of  an  acquaintance  I  had  made  in  Switzerland,  I 
easily  accomplished  the  first  part  of  my  project,  and  thus  had  in  my 
possession  two  passports,  in  both  of  which  indeed  my  true  name  was 
given ;  but  while  my  original  and  genuine  passport,  which  I  had 
brought  from  Hamburg,  described  me  as  a  Wurtemberger  by  birth, 
the  new  one  assigned  Hamburg  itself  as  the  place  of  my  nativity. 
I  thought,  for  a  travelling  birth-place,  there  was  none  more  eligible 
than  that  in  which  I  had  actually  spent  so  much  time,  and  in 
which  my  uncle,  whom  I  meant  to  use  as  a  father  for  the  time, 
was  well  known  to  have  his  domicile.  I  now,  therefore,  travelled 
safely  as  a  Hamburger  through  my  native  country,  and  from  its 
northern  frontier,  with  a  sorrowing  heart,  looked  a  last  adieu  over 
its  beloved  and  beautiful  fields. 

"  I  arrived  the  same  night  at  Neustadt-on-the-Aisch,  in  the 
Bavarian  territory,  and  repaired  to  an  inn  suited  to  my  circum- 
stances. The  landlord,  when  I  entered  his  house,  demanded  my 
passport,  and  received  it  forthwith,  promising  that  I  should  have  it 
back  by  times  in  the  morning.  You  will  remember  it  was  the 
&lse  passport,  which  I  had  used  since  leaving  Switzerland,  my  old 
and  true  passport  lying  with  other  papers  in  my  pocket-book.  The 
morning  came ;  I  rose,  breakfasted,  and,  forgetting  my  passport 
was  still  in  the  landlord's  hands,  I  set  oflF  without  it.     I  am  not 


102 


THE  TWO    PASSPORTS. 


habitually  a  forgetful  man,  and  to  forget  one's  passport  on  a  jour- 
ney is,  I  suspect,  a  piece  of  thoughtlessness  of  which  the  most 
thoughtless  have  seldom  been  guilty ;  but  so  it  was ;  without  any 
passport  I  actually  set  off;  nor  did  the  circumstance  recur  to  my 
thoughts  until  I  stood,  the  evening  of  that  same  day,  before  the 
gates  of  Erlangen,  where,  of  course,  *  Your  passport ! '  were  the 
first  words  addressed  to  me  by  the  soldiers  on  guard.  '  Potztaus- 
end ! '  said  I  to  myself,  '  thou  hast  left  thy  passport  at  Neustadt-on- 
the-Aisch.' 

"  I  had  now  nothing  for  it  but  either  to  say  I  had  forgot  my 
passport,  (which  nobody  would  believe,)  and  so  be  sent  back  in 
the  custody  of  soldiers  as  a  suspicious  character,  or  else  to  produce 
my  first  and  genuine  passport.  '  They  will  never  believe  thy  story,* 
said  I  again  to  myself;  'for,  to  speak  it  withoiit  flattery,  thou  dost 
not  look  altogether  like  the  simpleton  that  would  forget  his  pass- 
port. Besides,  who  ever  heard  that  a  landlord  asked  for  a  travel- 
ler's passport  ?  Thy  story  hangeth  not  well  together,  and  they  will 
hang  thee  to  make  it  good.'  In  short,  having  no  other  course  that 
boi'e  an  aspect  any  way  promising,  I  presented,  not  without  heavy 
misgivings,  the  original  Hamburg  passport.  This  document,  as  I 
need  not  tell  you,  was  in  its  present  state  but  an  unsatisfactory 
voucher  for  the  worthiness  of  its  bearer  to  pass  unobstructed,  it 
having  received  no  vise,  nor  bearing  any  trace  of  having  been  sub- 
mitted to  any  official  inspection,  from  Switzerland  to  the  place  where 
I  then  was ;  a  mysterious  circumstance,  for  which,  of  course,  I  was 
called  on  to  account.  However,  not  to  make  my  story  too  tedious, 
suffice  it  to  say,  that,  after  finding  myself  for  some  time  in  an  un- 
pleasant position,  I  got  the  matter  arranged,  and  was  again  free  to 
pursue  my  way. 

"  While  I  was  at  Erlangen,  there  began  to  fall  in  troops  forming 
part  of  the  vanguard  of  the  French  army ;  and  at  Bayreuth,  which 
was  the  next  point  in  my  route,  I  found  a  still  more  considerable 
body.  The  troops,  having  proceeded  thus  far  by  forced  marches, 
here  made  a  halt,  while  I,  on  the  other  hand,  now  made  redoubled 
eflforts  to  get  on,  it  being  easy  to  see  that  these  parts  would  ere 
long  become  the  theatre  of  active  hostilities. 

"It  was  about  midday,  or  towards  one  o'clock,  when,  by  the 
slackening  of  their  pace  and  the  increased  briskness  of  mine,  I  lost 
sight  of  these  undesired  companions  of  the  way ;  and  that  same 
afternoon,  about  three  o'clock,  I  fell  in  with  the  first  outposts  of 
the  Pnissians.  I  was  stopped,  and  asked  from  whence  I  came ; 
and,  on  my  answering  'from  Bayreuth,'  they  said  to  one  another, 
*  Why,  the  kerl  is  come  direct  from  the  French  outposts.'     *  I  '11 


THE    TWO    PASSPORTS.  108 


lay  my  life  he  's  a  spy,'  said  one.  *  We  shall  see  that,'  observed 
the  officer  commanding,  and  forthwith  gave  orders  to  carry  me  to 
Hof,  where  the  Prussians  had  an  encampment, — first,  however, 
taking  from  me  my  tablets  and  everything  in  a  written  form,  and 
sending  these  in  the  custody  of  one  of  my  guards  to  head-quarters. 
Arrived  at  Hof,  I  was  compelled  to  strip  to  my  shirt ;  my  clothes 
underwent  a  rigorous  search ;  and  the  very  soles  of  my  boots  were 
ripped,  to  see  if  anything  of  a  suspicious  nature  lay  hid  therein. 
It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  been  in  the  arbitrary  clutches  of 
soldiers,  and  the  novelty  was  anything  but  pleasing.  However,  I 
did  not  lose  courage,  relying  upon  my  conscious  innocence,  and 
not  doubting  that  the  matter  would,  on  investigation,  soon  appear 
in  its  true  light. 

"After  a  short  examination,  which  took  place  in  the  guard- 
room, I  was  consigned  to  a  prison  within  the  precincts  of  the  main 
guard.  Here  I  found  I  was  not  the  only  person  in  trouble  ;  the 
prison  already  contained  two  unhappy  wretches,  one  of  them  a  Jew 
of  the  neighborhood,  the  other  a  tailor  of  Bamberg,  who  had  been 
taken  the  day  before.  These  were  really  spies,  and  had  already 
made  confession  to  that  effect. 

* '  All  this  gave  me  little  anxiety.  I  still  confided  in  my  inno- 
cence, and  did  my  best  to  make  the  same  appear,  even  to  my 
wretched  companions.  They  expressed  great  compassion  for  me, 
chiefly  on  the  score  of  my  youth,  and  that  I  should  be,  as  they 
expressed  it,  cut  off  in  the  very  outset  of  a  promising  career.  I 
did  not  like  the  tone  of  their  condolences ;  it  was  evident  they  took 
me  for  one  of  their  honorable  guild. 

"  'I  assure  you,  meine  Herren,^  exclaimed  I,  unwilling  to  appear 
a  miscreant,  even  in  the  eyes  of  such  miscreants,  *  I  assure  you 
upon  my  honor  I  am  no  spy.' 

"  *  Ah ! '  said  the  tailor,  *  that 's  just  what  I  said  to  the  officers 
yesterday.  "I  assure  you,  my  officers,"  were  my  very  words; 
' '  honorable  captains,  I  assure  you  upon  my  honor  that  I  am  no 
spy.  Judge  of  me,  noble  gentlemen,"  said  I,  **by  yourselves; 
put  it  into  your  own  honorable  breasts  whether  a  man  of  honor  be 

capable "  and  so  on.     That 's  the  way  I  talked  to  them,  but 

it  helped  nothing ;  not  even  when  I  offered  to  give  them  important 
intelligence  of  the  position  and  strength  of  the  French  army.' 

"  - 1  offered  to  give  my  oath,'  broke  in  the  Jew,  '  that  I  was  no 
spy ;  and  they  did  but  laugh,  and  cast  in  my  teeth  a  ribald  rhyme 
which  they  are  taught  from  their  cradles  — 


104  tup:  two  passports. 


•*  Come  the  fox  to  his  lair  ? 
Hath  the  Jew  leave  to  swear  ? 
Both  have  planted  you  there !  " 


All  the  curses 


**  *  But  you  have  both  confessed  yourselves  spies,'  said  I,  cut- 
ting the  old  sorcerer  short  in  his  Jewish  curses,  which  I  had  no 
mind  to  hear. 

**  *  I  believe  you,'  said  the  tailor;  'and  so  will  you  confess 
yourself  before  this  time  to-morrow.' 

"  '  Never  ! '  cried  I ;  '  I  am  an  honest  man,  and  the  son  of  an 
honest  man,  and  will  never  stain  my  own  name,  and  my  father's, 
with  a  villany  which  the  world's  wealth  should  not  tempt  me  to 
defile  my  hands  with. ' 

''  '  Goodness  bless  you ! '  replied  the  tailor ;  *  what 's  the  use  of 
talking  that  way  to  us?  I,  too,  have  been  to  school,  and  know  how 
to  put  words  together  ;  yea,  and  can  make  many  fine  speeches  out 
of  Her  von  Kotzebue's  plays.  For  example,  I  remember  a  beau- 
tiful sentiment  beginning  thus :  "  The  man  who "  bah  !  I  for- 
get the  rest ;  but  it  is  infinitely  touching,  I  promise  you,  and  makes 
the  heart  swell  with  the  finest  emotions.  But  what 's  that  to  the 
purpose  ?  Hearken  to  me  :  you  are  young  and  a  raw  hand,  and 
have  run  like  a  raw  hand,  into  a  trap.  Now,  if  you  can  talk  your- 
self out  of  the  trap,  I  '11  say  talk  is  a  fine  thing ;  but  I  '11  tell  you 
what  it  is,  if  you  can  talk  a  hole  in  that  wall,  and  a  clear  passage 
for  yourself  out  of  the  Prussian  lines^  you  're  safe ;  but,  not  to 
discourage  you,  I  confess  I  have  my  doubts.  I  am  afraid  you 
won't  find  the  method  quite  so  sure  as  might  be  wished.  However, 
you  can  try ;  and  I  promise  you,  if  talk  don't  do  that  for  you,  it 
will  do  nothing  else.' 

"Well! '  said  I,  *  they  can  shoot  me  if  they  will;  I  can  but 
assert  my  innocence  to  the  last.  If  the  officers  are  determined  to 
put  an  innocent  man  to  death,  to  take  away  life  on  a  bare  ground- 
less suspicion,  no  doubt  they  have  it  in  then-  power  to  do  so.  Let 
them  do  it,  then;  I  am  not  afraid  to  die.' 

*'  'They  are  very  punctilious,  my  dear,'  remai-ked  the  Jew; 
'  very.  They  won't  shoot  you  without  a  confession  ;  they  never  do. 
They  would  n't  put  a  man  to  death  on  suspicion.  They  are  ex- 
tremely particular  on  these  points ;  you  '11  have  to  confess ;  they 
make  a  point  of  it. ' 

'••Confess!'  cried  I;  'confess  myself  a  spy!  falsely  accus« 
myself  of  a  wickedness  I  detest !    Never  I ' 


THE   TWO    PASSPORTS.  105 


•'  'The  provost-marshal,'  observed  the  Jew,  *has  great  powers 
of  persuasion.' 

"  I  confess  I  winced  a  little  at  this;  hanging  had  not  entered 
into  my  calculations.     After  a  pause,  however,  I  replied  : 

*' '  Well,  they  may  hang  me.  Of  the  two,  I  had  rather  be  shot ; 
but  I  will  not  purchase  the  choice  at  the  expense  of  my  honest 
fame,  neither  shall  even  the  fear  of  the  gallows  induce  me  to  belie 
myself.  Do  what  they  will  with  me,  they  shall  not  have  the  satis- 
faction of  hearing  me  call  myself  a  spy.  I  will  not  die  with  a  lie 
in  my  mouth.' 

"'The  gracious  pity  the  boy!'  exclaimed  the  tailor;  'hear 
him  talk  of  the  gallows !  Death  is  death ;  and  I  see  little  to 
choose  between  the  rope  and  the  bullet ;  but  what  do  you  say  to 
he'mg  Jlogged  to  death  ?  "  Assert  your  innocence  "  by  all  means, 
and  die  under  the  lash,  or  "  belie  yourself,"  and  be  shot.  That '« 
the  choice  you  '11  have,  this  evening  or  early  to-morrow.  Bear  the 
flogging,  of  course,  as  long  as  you  can ;  life  is  worth  bearing  some- 
thing for  ;  but  I  prophesy  you  will  not  bear  it  long.  Besides,  they 
won't  give  over  till  they  get  a  confession  out  of  you.  "Life  is 
sweet,"  said  I  to  myself,  when  they  tied  me  up  this  morning.  "  I 
will  save  my  life,  though  I  be  unable  to  put  a  coat  to  my  back  for 
a  twelvemonth."  But  I  couldn't  hold  out — I  couldn't  hold 
out ;  nor  were  it  to  any  purpose,  for  I  should  be  a  dead  man  ere 
now,  if  I  had  not  cried  guilty  ! ' 

"  '  You  will  not  die,'  added  the  Jew,  with  the  sneer  of  a  demon , 
*  you  will  not  die  with  a  lie  in  your  mouth.  Will  you  die  with 
piteous  meanings  and  cries  for  mercy  in  your  mouth,  which  you 
might  as  well  address  to  the  scourge  that  plays  on  your  back,  or  to 
the  human  tool  that  plies  it,  as  to  the  calm  tyrants  that  sit  and  see 
it  plied  ?  Will  you  die  with  the  thirst  of  the  burning  Tophet  in 
your  mouth  —  with  the  drought  of  the  sandy  wilderness  in  your 
jaws?  Will  you  die  when,  from  the  resolved  and  silent  man,  you 
have  become  the  shrieking  woman,  and  from  the  shrieking  woman, 
the  sick  child  that  plains  feebly,  and  can  only  murmur  "  a  little 
water,  a  little  water,"  which  they  will  not  give,  because  they  know 
that  a  blessed  drop  of  it  were  death,  and  thereby  were  much  good 
flogging  thrown  away?  Men  die  not  so  speedily  under  the  lash,' 
proceeded  he,  addressing  the  tailor;  'and  thou  wouldst  be  alive 
till  now,  though  thou  hadst  not  cried  "  guilty  !  "  Ah  !  ah  !  had 
I  a  thousand  souls,  I  would  give  them  all  —  all  —  all !  that  my  tor- 
mentors should  suffer  forever  and  ever  —  forever  and  ever  —  for- 
ever and  ever  —  what  I  suffered  this  day  at  their  will,  before  I  bent 
my  will  thereto,  and  gratified  them  with  my  confession.' 


106  THE    TWO    PASSPORTS. 


**  Until  now,  I  had  not  seen  into  what  a  labyrinth  my  destiny  had 
led  me.  I  felt,  from  this  moment,  that  there  remained  to  nie  no 
other  course  than  to  prepare  for  death ;  for  I  resolved  firmly  that  I 
would  be  sliot  rather  than  be  floo-o-ed  to  death.  Since  now  I  had 
but  the  choice  between  these  two  modes  of  being  murdered,  I 
determined  to  give,  on  the  very  first  stripe,  the  answer  desired  by 
my  oppressors. 

"  From  five  o'clock  that  evening  till  the  following  morning,  I 
was  conducted  at  least  half-a-dozen  times  before  a  court  composed 
of  oflScers.  My  conductor  was  the  provost-marshal ;  and  at  each 
elbow  walked  a  dragoon,  their  drawn  swords  held  edgeways  across 
my  breast  and  back. 

"An  examination  more  rigorous,  or  one  more  difiicult,  — more 
impossible  for  a  man  to  withstand,  who  had  anything  to  conceal,  — 
cannot  be  conceived.  Interrogatories  of  the  most  subtle  and  en- 
snaring tendency  —  observations  ingeniously  calculated  to  throw 
me  off  my  guard,  insidious  leading  questions  (which  I  had  no 
learned  counsel  to  object  to)  —  cunning  tricks  of  speech,  intended 
to  surprise  me  into  a  confession  or  admission,  direct  or  indirect,  of  my 
presumed  guilt,  followed  each  other  until  my  head  was  well-nigh 
dizzy.  If  there  had  been  a  weak  point  in  my  defence  it  must  infalli- 
bly have  been  found  out ;  had  the  hollow  ground  of  guilt  been  under 
my  feet,  I  had  been  engulphed  without  redemption. 

"  But  as  all  this  ingenuity  was,  upon  an  innocent  man,  necessa- 
rily thrown  away,  the  officers  at  last  desisted  from  questioning 
me,  and  looked  dubiously  in  each  other's  faces.  Now,  the  very 
strong  presumption  of  my  being  a  spy  rested  chiefly  on  this  ground, 
that  the  Prussians,  from  the  time  they  took  up  their  position,  Imd 
suffered  no  one,  traveller  or  other,  any  more  to  pass  on  from  their 
side  in  the  direction  of  the  French ;  and  they  naturally  concluded 
that,  as  was  customary  in  such  circumstances,  (the  two  armies  being 
then  but  two  leagues  asunder,)  the  French  would  have  acted  on 
the  same  rule.  When  they  saw  me,  therefore,  come  over  from  the 
French  side,  the  conclusion  was  almost  inevitable  that  I  was  a  spy ; 
and  the  evidence  of  my  innocence  must  have  been  very  strong, 
indeed,  to  have  countervailed  this  potent  presumption  against  it. 
My  judges,  as  I  have  said,  looked  dubiously  into  each  other's 
faces.  'After  all,'  at  length  began  one,  for  they  spoke  openly 
before  me,  '  it  is  possible  that  at  the  time  the  young  man  passed, 
the  enemy  had  really  not  taken  up  their  position,  in  which  case  you 
know  there  would  have  been  no  hindrance  offered  to  his  passing ; 
BO  you  see  there  is  a  possibility,  —  mind,  I  say  merely  a  possibil- 
ity, for  I  don't  build  much  on  it,  —  but  there  is  a  possibility  of 


THE   TWO    PASSPORTS.  107 


his  having  come  over  innocently,  and  without  being  aware  of  the 
danger.' 

"  '  I  think  you  do  well,'  said  another,  '  not  to  make  too  much  of 
your  possibility ;  yet  I  confess  myself  perplexed.  Appearances  are 
desperately  against  the  prisoner;  and  yet  his  own  appearance  and 
manner  are  as  much  in  his  favor  as  those  of  any  man  I  ever  saw. 
This  I  will  say,  either  he  is  innocent  or  a  most  accomplished  knave, 
and  an  infinitely  more  dangerous  villain  than  a  hundred  such  pooi 
caitiffs  as  we  took  yesterday.     If  he  be  a  spy,  he  is  a  perfect  one.' 

" '  I  think,'  remarked  the  former  speaker,  '  such  a  mere  youth 
could  hardly  be  such  an  adept  in  dissimulation ;  moreover,  he  is  a 
Suabian  by  his  tongue  ;  and  that  is  a  people  that  have  more  of  the 
ox  than  of  the  fox  in  them.' 

" '  I  see  no  great  difficulty,'  observed  a  third,  '  in  dealing  with 
this  matter :  try  five-and-twenty  lashes  for  a  beginning.  My  life 
on  it,  the  provost-marshal  will  bring  more  truth  out  of  the  kerl 
in  five  minutes,  than  all  your  cross-examining  will  do  in  as  many 
months.' 

"  I  was  now  led  back  to  prison,  and  occupied  myself  with  thinking 
over  the  necessary  proofs  of  my  innocence.  At  this  time  came  to 
my  recollection  a  story  which  had  been  told  me  in  Switzerland,  by 
one  Boschel,  of  Pirna  ;  it  was  to  this  effect.  During  the  siege  of 
Dresden,  which  took  place  in  the  seven  years'  war,  communications 
were  secretly  carried  on  between  that  town  and  Pirna ;  and  the 
Pirna  people  having  on  one  occasion  hired  a  young  girl  of  fifteen 
years  of  age,  for  a  few  groschen,  to  carry  to  Dresden  one  of  their 
despatches,  of  the  contents  or  nature  of  which  she  had  not  an  idea, 
both  the  mission  and  its  innocent  bearer  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
besiegers,  who  forthwith  hung  the  poor  child. 

"  The  recollection  of  this  story  now  depressed  me ;  and  when  I 
reflected  on  the  so-called  '  hussar-justice,'  known  to  be  acted  upon, 
particularly  in  spy  trials,  on  the  absence  of  any  sufficing  proofs  of 
my  innocence,  and  on  the  speedy  effect  which  the  torture  of  the 
lash  would  have  to  wring  from  me  a  false  confession  of  guilt,  I  saw, 
as  I  thought,  that  my  hours  were  numbered ;  and  the  only  consola- 
tion I  had  was  in  calling  to  mind,  that  shooting,  as  I  had  heard, 
was  a  speedy  and  not  painful  mode  of  execution,  and  that  to  suffer 
unjustly  was,  after  all,  no  such  unheard-of  or  unexampled  fate. 

"  The  prison,  as  I  have  said  before,  was  situated  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  the  main-guard ;  it  had  on  the  outer  sides  three  strong 
walls,  and  on  the  inner  an  iron  grating,  before  which  the  sentries 
on  guard  paced  to  and  fro.  I  had  not  long  been  led  back  from  my 
examination,  when  a  number  of  soldiers  crowded  to  this  grating, 


108  THE   TWO    PASSPORTS. 


pushing  and  shouldering  their  way  to  gaze  on  us  as  if  we  had  been 
wild  beasts. 

"  '  One  of  thes^  unlucky  devils  is  to  be  shot  this  evening,  or  at 
day-break  to-morrow,'  said  one  of  our  spectators. 

"  '  Serve  them  right,'  growled  another,  with  many  other  like 
sympathizing  speeches.  However,  they  were  presently  turned  away, 
and  no  further  molestation  of  the  kind  was  permitted  to  be  offered 
us.  As  for  rae,  I  knew  that,  as  I  had  not  yet  been  pronounced 
guilty,  mine  could  not  be  the  execution  thus  spoken  of  as  so  near ; 
nevertheless,  the  impression  the  scene  had  made  on  me  was  far  from 
agreeable. 

"  Still  I  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  accommodate  myself  as  well  as 
I  could  to  my  destiny ;  and  I  will  say  this,  that  I  had  at  least  no 
feeling  of  unmanly  terror  ;  I  did  not  fear  to  die  ;  what  grieved  me 
most  was,  that  I  should  be  thrust  out  of  the  world  ignominiously, 
and  as  one  of  the  most  abandoned  of  men. 

"  A  short  time  elapsed,  and  I  was  called  to  a  further  examina- 
tion. On  entering  the  guard  room,  I  noticed  a  certain  grating 
which  had  not  appeared  there  on  the  former  occasion.  What  this 
boded,  I  could  but  too  well  divine;  nevertheless,  I  ^\t  no  violent 
discomposure  ;  only  I  was  sensible  all  at  once  of  a  peculiar  burning 
heat  under  the  tongue,  nowise  painful,  but  which  has  so  branded 
itself  on  me  that  I  retain  to  this  day  a  distinct  and  lively  impres- 
sion of  it. 

"  Once  more  I  was  questioned  on  the  subjects  relating  to  my 
position,  but  naturally  with  a  result  as  little  satisfactory  to  the 
court  as  before.  It  was  resolved,  therefore,  to  proceed  without  fur- 
ther delay  to  the  experiment  of  the  lash,  and  orders  were  given 
that  I  should  forthwith  be  seized  up  to  the  grating  aforementioned. 
That  moment  I  felt  a  new  spirit  possess  me ;  I  was  another  man. 
Every  trace  of  fear,  all  trepidation,  all  inquietude,  was  gone.  With 
an  undaunted  mind,  I  looked  my  judges  in  the  face,  and  asked  for 
one  moment's  speech  before  the  putting  of  their  purpose  into  execu- 
tion. With  some  roughness,  (for  they  were  impatient,)  they  asked 
rae  what  I  had  to  say,  and  I  spoke  with  emphasis  as  follows  : 

" '  Sirs !  I  am  a  travelling  handicrafts-man,  not  accustomed  to 
being  flogged  ;  and  therefore  my  determination  is,  at  the  very  first 
stripe  I  receive,  to  cry  guilty !  false  as  the  word  will  be ;  for  I  can 
foresee,  plainly  enough,  that  once  tied  up  to  that  grating,  I  shall  find 
no  compa.ssion,  and  have  no  other  prospect  but  to  perish  in  the  pain- 
fullest  way.  If,  sirs,  you  have  found,  up  to  this  moment,  either 
in  my  papers  or  in  my  words,  the  faintest  trace  of  a  justification 
of  your  suspicions,  I  only  pray  you  to  have  me  shot  at  once.     If 


THE   TWO    PASSPORTS.  109 

you  haye  found  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  want  only  to  force  me  by 
torture  to  confess  myself  what  you  choose  to  consider  me,  you  will 
attain  your  aim,  it  is  true ;  but  you  will  have  blackened  an  honest 
man's  name,  and  you  will  go  to  battle  to-morrow,  or  the  day  after, 
with  innocent  blood  on  your  hands.' 

"  There  was  a  pause ;  and  the  officers  looked  upon  me  with  a 
grave  and  sad  expression :  for  that  time  I  was  led  back  to  my 
prison  unscourged.  About  an  hour  and  a  half  had  elapsed,  when 
the  provost-marshal  came  to  usher  me  once  more  into  the  presence 
of  my  judges ;  and  on  this  occasion  I  was  no  more  flanked,  as  be- 
fore, by  the  dragoons,  with  their  drawn  sabres.  For  the  last  time 
was  the  interrogatory  addressed  to  me,  whither  I  was  on  my  way ; 
and  I  answered,  as  before,  to  Dresden,  by  the  nearest  route,  namely, 
by  Chemnitz  and  Friedberg.  My  passport  was  handed  me,  the 
route  duly  marked  upon  it ;  everything  that  had  been  taken  from 
me  was  returned ;  and  I  was  dismissed  with  the  advice  not  to  be 
too  ready  another  time  to  thrust  myself  in  between  two  armies  on 
the  point  of  engagement.  A  soldier  was  given  me  for  escort,  with 
orders  to  conduct  me  to  the  distance  of  a  league  and  a  half  behind 
the  Prussian  lines :  thence  I  was  at  liberty  to  pursue  my'way  with- 
out restraint. 

"  It  was  but  a  few  days  after  my  liberation,  namely,  the  four- 
teenth of  October,  1806,  that  the  battle  of  Jena,  so  disastrous  to 
the  Prussian  arms,  was  fought. 

"  And  now,  sirs,  I  ask  you,  are  the  concerns  of  men  indeed 
abandoned  to  the  sport  of  a  blind  hap-hazard  ?  Consider  it ;  to  my 
very  great  annoyance,  I  had  forgot  to  re-possess  myself  of  my 
second  passport,  which  had  been  taken  from  me  by  my  host, 
at  Neustadt-on-the-Aisch.  But  had  this  not  taken  place  —  had  I 
been  apprehended  by  the  Prussians  with  two  passports,  varying  in 
their  accounts  of  me  or  my  person  —  that  power  is  not  on  earth 
that  could  have  saved  me  from  the  ignominious  fate  of  the  vilest  of 
traitors. 

"I  can  only  pity  the  sceptic,  who  will  no  doubt  say  it  was  a 
mere  chance  that  my  passport  was  kept  back  from  me.  Never  in 
my  life,  besides,  was  my  passport  taken  from  me  by  an  innkeeper ; 
how  little  likely  such  a  thing  is  to  happen,  they  who  have  travelled 
most  will  be  best  able  to  judge.  And  supposing  your  passport 
were  thus  taken  away,  how  much  more  unlikely  still  were  it  that 
you  should  forget  at  parting  to  ask  for  it,  or  your  host  forget  to 
return  it ! 

"  No  !  I  say  again,  with  the  proofs  I  have  of  a  good  Providence 
ordering  the  aS^irs  of  men,  I  should  merit  to  be  reproached,  by  in 


110  THE    TWO    PASSPORTS. 


fidels  themselves,  as  a  soul  incapable  of  gratitude,  could  I  believe 
my  steps  to  be  directed  by  no  higher,  no  holier  power  than  my  own 
poor  prudence,  or  than  blind  chance.  And  so,  gentlemen,  that  is  my 
story*;  and  I  crave  your  pardon  for  troubling  you  with  it ;  but  it 
has  turned  out  longer  than  I  counted  on." 

While  the  Suabian  spoke,  the  tailor  had  applied  himself,  as  if 
there  had  been  nine  of  him,  right  manfully  to  the  Rhine  wine,  and 
was  now  hardly  clear-headed  enough  to  give  a  very  edifying  com- 
ment on  what  he  had  heard.  All  that  he  could  bring  out  was,  that 
he  considered  remarks  on  a  man's  profession  illiberal  and  beneath 
his  notice ;  and  that  if  he  could  bring  himself  to  think  that  all  that 
about  the  tailor  the  Suabian  had  spoken  of  was  meant  as  a  personal- 
ity, he  would The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  unfortunately  lost 

in  the  speaker's  increasing  thickness  of  articulation. 


AUSTRALIA   AND   TAW   DIEMEM'S   LAND. 


The  British  Empire,  extending  through  all  the  divisions  of  the 
world,  comprehends  no  region  more  adapted  for  colonization  than 
Australia.  The  shores  of  the  Indian  continent,  rich  in  the  most 
costly  products  of  the  earth,  are  more  attractive  to  the  trader  than 
the  emigrant;  the  supeib  islands  of  the  remote  East,  with  their 
camphor  woods  and  precious  metals,  afford  few  plains  for  pasturage 
and  corn-growing ;  while  even  the  verdant  karoos  of  Southern  Af- 
rica present  a  less  favorable  field  for  settlement  than  the  soil  of  New 
South  Wales  and  "Western  Australia.     Sixty  years  since,  the  whole 

(111) 


112  AUSTRALIA   AND   TAN    DIEMEn's   LAND. 

region  was  a  desert.  Now  and  then  an  adventurous  sailor  navi- 
gated the  waters  along  its  lonely  shores,  and  disturbed  the  quietude 
of  its  forest-bordered  harbors.  Little  more  than  half  a  century  has 
established  civilization  on  the  north  and  the  south,  the  east  and  the 
west,  of  this  the  largest  island  in  the  world.  Emigrant  vessels  and 
merchant  ships  thi'ong  the  seas  between,  steam-packets  ply  along 
the  coasts,  shipping  crowds  the  ports,  omnibuses  traverse  the  streets 
of  well-built  towns,  farms  and  villas  multiply  near  the  sea,  and  a 
railway  train  is  expected  shortly  to  whirl  through  the  passes  of  the 
Blue  Mountains.  The  exports  of  Great  Britain  are  consumed 
largely  among  the  colonists,  and  Australia  offers  in  return  peace 
and  abundance  to  those  who  are  willing  to  labor  for  these  blessings. 
In  fine,  the  progress  of  the  country,  though  occasionally  inter- 
rupted, exhibits  altogether  one  of  the  most  striking  features  in  the 
history  of  transmarine  empire,  and  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to 
the  reader  to  trace  with  us  briefly  an  outline  of  this  gratifying 
development. 

While  the  Portuguese  and  the  Spaniards,  early  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  were  extending  their  enterprise  through  the  seas  of  the 
further  East,  rumors  reached  Europe  of  a  new  continent  in  the 
south.  The  navigator,  driven  by  contrary  winds  and  currents 
beyond  the  bounds  of  his  ordinary  enterprise,  discovered  diflferent 
points  of  land,  which  for  a  long  period  none  endeavored  to  exam- 
ine. The  Spaniards  had  been  navigating  the  Indian  Archipelago 
for  more  than  eighty,  and  the  Portuguese  for  nearly  a  hundred, 
years  before  the  name  of  any  mariner  became  connected  with  the 
discovery  of  Australia.  The  Unknown  Southern  Land  (Terra 
Australis  Incognita),  and  the  Southern  Land  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
(Australia  del  Spiritu  Santo) ,  were  indefinitely  mentioned  in  their 
records,  yet  no  explorer  ventured  to  approach  the  mysterious  coasts 
dimly  seen  by  the  chance  voyager  in  those  remote  seas. 

In  1605,  however,  the  Dutch,  eager  to  attain  a  maritime  supe- 
riority in  those  distant  regions,  equipped  the  yacht  Duyfen,  which 
sailed  from  the  port  of  Bantam,  in  Java,  to  explore  the  coast  of 
New  Guinea.  Returning  from  this  expedition,  the  little  vessel 
entered  the  waters  off  the  shores  of  Australia,  and  sailed  into  the 
ereat  Gulf  of  Carpentaria.  To  these  early  voyagers  all  seemed 
desolate  and  barren,  for,  since  the  discovery  of  America,  the  voyage 
of  Vasco  di  Gama,  and  the  exploration  of  the  Indian  Archipelago, 
the  navigator  continually  thirsted  for  some  new  Chersonese,  where 
gold  was  to  be  found  in  every  stream,  where  amber  was  washed  up 
on  the  beach,  where  spices  perfumed  the  forests,  and  pearls  were 
plentiful  in  the  shallow  waters  near  the  shore.     The  wild  aspect 


AUSTRALIA    AND    TAN    DIEMEN's    LAND.  113 

of  the  Australian  coasts  consequently  offered  little  temptation  to 
chem.  Nevertheless,  Spanish,  Dutch,  and  English  mariners  con- 
tinued to  visit  those  seas  —  Dampier,  between  1684  and  1700, 
exploring  a  portion  of  the  north-western  coast,  and  surveying  it  in 
the  rude  manner  of  his  time.  Half  a  century  of  further  research 
added  little  to  the  world's  knowledge  of  this  great  region ;  but 
1770  brought  the  advent  of  Captain  Cook,  whose  immortal  memory 
is  associated  with  so  many  seas  and  shores.  He  discovered  the 
eastern  coast  of  Australia  from  Cape  Howe  to  Cape  York  —  nam- 
ing the  region  New  South  Wales.  Many  successive  voyagers  fol- 
lowed, each  of  whom  contributed  some  tracing  to  the  seaboard  of 
this  vast  territory,  until  Captain  Stokes,  about  eight  years  ago, 
made  the  entire  circuit  of  the  island,  and  first  enabled  the  biogra- 
pher accurately  to  lay  down  the  leading  features  of  its  mighty 
outline. 

While  the  daring  navigators  of  Europe  were  exploring  the  shores 
of  Australia  —  marking  its  outlying  islands,  endeavoring  to  dis- 
cover the  mouths  of  rivers,  fixing  the  position  of  harbors,  and  lay- 
ing down  the  general  outline  of  the  island  —  inland  discovery  com- 
menced much  later,  and  made  a  slower  progress.  In  the  south, 
ridges  of  hills  were  known  to  exist,  and  believed  to  be  impassable. 
Not  lofty,  but  precipitous  and  rugged,  they  were  intersected  by 
deep  chasms  and  broad  barren  valleys,  sprinkled  with  half-blasted 
trees,  and  piled  with  masses  of  sandstone  rock  —  landscapes  sub 
lime  in  their  melancholy  desolation.  The  Blue  Mountains  —  so 
named  from  their  habitual  aspect  —  were  long  considered  impassa- 
ble ;  but  when  the  English  colonists  in  New  South  Wales  were 
straitened  for  room,  they  looked  for  wider  pastures  for  their  flocks, 
and  more  extensive  lands  for  the  cultivation  of  corn  and  vegeta- 
bles. Necessity,  then,  opened  a  passage  through  the  lulls,  the 
Bathurst  Plains  were  discovered,  and  a  stage-coach  rattled  along  a 
well-made  road,  winding  among  the  mountain-passes.  In  other 
directions  adventitious  men,  starting  from  different  points,  attempted 
to  explore  the  interior  of  Australia ;  but  as  yet,  all  have  been  un- 
successful in  their  endeavor  to  reach  the  centre,  and  he  who  trav- 
elled farthest,  at  the  utmost  point  of  his  journey  has  only  cast  his 
eye  over  a  monotonous  desert,  apparently  of  interminable  extent. 

Australia  is  situated  in  the  immense  ocean  stretching  to  the 
south-east  of  Asia,  and  lies  in  nearly  the  same  latitude  with  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  and  Brazil.  Equal  in  surface  to  four  fifths  of 
the  European  continent,  it  extends  from  113°  5'  to  153°  16'  east 
longitude,  and  from  10°  39'  to  39°  11'  south  latitude.  The  great- 
est  breadth,  from  Cape  York  to  Wilson  Promontory,  north  and 


114  AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN    DIEMEN's    LAND. 

Bouth,  is  2000  miles,  and  the  extreme  length,  from  Shark's  Bay  to 
Sandy  Coast,  west  and  east,  about  2400.  The  area  is  calculated 
at  3,000,000  square  miles,  and  the  coast-line  at  7750.  The  whole 
of  this  immense  mass  of  land  is  solid  and  compact,  broken  by  few 
indentations  of  the  ocean.  The  great  Gulf  of  Carpentaria  on  the 
north,  and  Spenser  Gulf,  in  the  Australian  Bight,  on  the  southern 
side,  are  the  only  extensive  sheets,  though  Shark's  Bay  and  Hei^ 
vey's  Bay  are  also  considerable.  Numerous  inlets,  however  — 
too  small  to  be  named  as  breaking  the  coast-line,  but  of  noble 
dimensions  nevertheless  —  afford  easy  approach  to  this  otherwise 
iron-bound  island. 

The  mariner,  for  the  first  time  approaching  Australia  on  its 
western  coast,  perceives  few  of  those  natural  charms  painted  by  so 
many  writers.  Along  these  shores  —  even  now  very  rarely  visited 
' — there  is  little  to  allure  the  eye.  A  monotonous  plain,  bounded 
in  the  distance  by  a  chain  of  bleak  hills,  stretches  from  the  sea, 
and  over  the  surface  of  this  vast  level  are  scattered  sweeps  of 
ground  blackened  by  the  passage  of  flames.  The  few  wandering 
tribes  leading  a  nomade  life  in  this  part  of  the  island,  frequently, 
by  accident  or  intentionally,  kindle  the  tall  dry  grasses  or  the  low 
bush.  The  fire,  seizing  greedily  on  the  parched  vegetation,  travels 
with  great  rapidity,  and,  driven  by  the  wind,  spreads  to  the  base  of 
the  hills,  where  the  conflagration  spends  its  fury.  Generally,  in 
one  direction  or  another,  the  navigator  may  perceive  the  smoke  or 
flame  of  one  of  these  prairie  fires.  As  we  proceed  further  north- 
ward the  shores  become  strewn  with  enormous  masses  of  rock, 
extending  to  some  distance  from  the  beach.  It  is  supposed  that 
formerly  the  land  here  was  considerably  more  elevated  than  at 
present,  and  that  the  action  of  water  has  levelled  it,  leaving  the 
more  durable  masses  unremoved.  Some  eminences,  covered  with 
a  vegetation  richer  than  that  of  Brazil  or  Borneo,  with  occasional 
fertile  plains,  present  themselves  in  marked  contrast  with  the  geiv 
era!  aridity  of  this  coast. 

On  the  northern  shores  the  same  level  prevails.  Flinders  sailed 
175  leagues  without  seeing  any  hill  higher  than  the  mast  of  a 
eloop.  Irregular  cliffs  rise  from  the  sea,  broken  by  the  embouchures 
of  several  rivers,  some  of  which  —  the  Adelaide,  the  Victoria,  and 
the  Albert  —  were  discovered  during  the  last  surveying  expedition 
of  Captain  Stokes;  but  they  have  never  been  traced  to  their 
sources.  Along  the  Gulf  of  Capentaria  few  elevations  occur ;  but, 
reaching  the  eastern  coast,  the  view  is  no  longer  monotonous  or 
dreary.  New  scenes  continually  unfold  themselves :  forests,  and 
©pen  plains,  and  valleys,  running  up  between  the  hills,  and  a  more 


AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DIEMEn's    LAND.  115 

numerous  population  enlivening  the  country.  Passing  between  tbe 
chore  and  that  great  barrier-reef  which  outlies  the  eastern  coast  of 
New  Holland  for  more  than  600  miles,  we  enter  the  principal  field 
of  British  enterprise,  where  the  coast  is  marked  by  a  thousand  fan- 
tastic irregularities.  A  line  of  precipitous  cliffs  extends  far  towards 
the  south ;  a  huge  breach  in  this  natural  wall  becomes  apparent ; 
and,  while  the  eye  is  resting  on  the  grim  magnificence  of  these 
granite  barriers,  the  vessel  glides  between  the  rocks,  and  reposes  in 
the  superb  harbor  of  Port  Jackson.  The  shore,  sweeping  in  gen- 
tle slopes  towards  the  hills,  is  covered  with  a  natural  growth  of 
verdure.  The  sea,  blue  and  brilliant,  flows  into  beautiful  bays, 
where  vessels  lie  safe  after  their  long  voyage  from  Europe.  White 
stone-built  villas,  with  graceful  gardens  and  groves,  lend  artificial 
charms  to  a  landscape  naturally  picturesque;  and  Sydney,  the 
capital  of  New  South  Wales,  with  its  forts  and  light-houses,  its 
churches,  hospitals,  and  custom-houses,  full  of  traffic,  and  smoking 
in  the  heat  of  industry,  appears  like  the  creation  of  enchantment. 
The  industry  of  Europe,  planted  in  Australia,  now  ploughs  the  sea 
between  Port  Jackson  and  Moreton  Bay  with  steamers,  which  pre- 
pare the  mind  for  the  scene  presented  within  ;  but  with  this  excep- 
tion, the  change  from  the  outer  view  to  the  panorama  of  Sydney  is 
as  that  from  a  lifeless  desert  to  an  English  seaport. 

Still  proceeding  southward  towards  Cape  Howe,  the  coast  wears 
a  similar  aspect,  until,  rounding  the  huge  peak  of  Wilson  Prom- 
ontory, with  its  inaccessible  islets  lying  around,  we  enter  Bass' 
Straits.  Sailing  along  the  fertile  shores  of  Australia  Felix,  the 
eye  of  the  mariner  rests  with  delight  on  the  scenery  for  many  hun- 
dred miles.  Towards  the  west  the  surface  again  becomes  level ; 
irregularities  are  few ;  tall  sloping  cliffs  commence ;  and  the  coun- 
try sinks  into  a  plain  covered  with  scrub,  and  extending  as  far  as 
the  south-western  point  of  the  island.  There  rises  a  range  of  low 
hills,  continuing  as  far  as  Gautheaume  Bay,  where  we  reach  again 
the  desolate  level  from  whence  our  circuit  commenced. 

The  general  surface  of  Australia,  so  far  as  it  has  yet  been 
explored,  is  level.  In  New  South  Wales  several  ranges  cover  a 
large  portion  of  the  province.  Of  these  the  principal  are  the 
Warragong,  or  Australian  Alps,  in  the  region  called  "The  Hap- 
py," rising  to  the  height  of  about  15,000  feet,  and  capped  with 
perpetual  snow.  The  Blue  Mountains,  west  of  Sydney,  attain  an 
elevation  of  3000  feet;  the  Grampians,  in  Australia  Felix,  of 
4500  ;  and  the  Liverpool  range,  between  Sydney  and  Moreton  Bay, 
of  6000.  Other  ridges,  connecting  these,  complete  a  continuous 
though  tortuous  chain  more  than  1000  miles  in  length.     This 


116  AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN's   LAND. 

chain  mns  from  Portland  Bay  in  Australia  Felix,  at  a  distance  of 
from  60  to  100  miles  from  the  sea,  as  far  as  Moreton  Bay,  branch- 
ing out  into  several  inferior  ridges.  The  western  mountains  never 
rise  to  more  than  3000  feet,  and  in  no  other  division  have  any  em- 
inences deserving  this  name  been  discovered.  The  surface  of  Aus- 
tralia, therefore,  is  more  uniformly  level  than  that  of  any  other  region 
of  equal  extent.  Its  mountain-system  also  is  altogether  peculiar.  In 
the  countries  of  the  old  vp^orld  every  range,  hovrever  tortuous,  agrees 
in  general  direction  with  the  length  of  the  continent*  in  which  it 
lies.  In  Australia  the  case  is  reversed  —  the  hills  run  transversely 
from  north  to  south.  In  the  old  world,  also,  the  tendency  of  the 
ridges,  valleys,  and  rivers,  is  parallel ;  but  here  we  find  a  region 
apparently  struggling  into  form  with  all  the  elements  of  its  ultimate 
perfection  loosely  scattered  over  the  suiface.  For  example  :  south 
of  latitude  33  degrees,  the  valleys  run  along  the  base  of  the  hill- 
ranges,  watered  by  streams  which  follow  their  direction  throughout; 
north  of  that  latitude  they  cross  from  east  to  west,  while  in  the 
western  provinces  the  land  is  divided  into  terraced  plains  like  the 
steppes  of  Tartary.  Thus  a  theory  formed  by  investigation  in  one 
place,  is  destroyed  by  the  examination  of  another.  All  the  geo- 
logical formations  exist ;  but  they  occur  without  order,  and  appear 
subject  to  none  of  the  laws  laid  down  by  science  in  the  old  world. 
Again :  if  we  turn  to  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  we 
have  black  swans ;  white  eagles ;  crabs  of  an  ultra-marine  color ; 
those  singular  insects  the  walking  leaves ;  cherries  growing  with 
their  stones  outside ;  trees  which  shed  their  bark  instead  of  their 
leaves ;  quadrupeds  with  birds'  bills ;  and  fish  that  are  amphibious, 
leaping  over  the  ground  by  the  aid  of  their  strong  spiny  fins. 

A  curious  and  remarkable  tree  is  frequently  met  with  in  Aus- 
tralia, called  the  barrel  tree.  The  trunk  bulges  out  in  the  middle 
like  a  barrel,  so  as  to  be  sometimes  three  or  four  times  as  much  in 
diameter  as  it  is  at  the  ground,  or  at  the  point  where  the  lower 
branches  spring  out.  They  are  small  in  proportion  to  their  great 
girth,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  appearance  of  the  tree  is  extremely 
odd.  Sir  T.  Mitchell  saw  specimens  of  the  barrel  tree  often,  and 
expresses  the  opinion  that  the  swelling  of  the  trunk  is  the  natural 
characteristic  of  the  tree,  and  not  a  lusus  naturce. 

A  very  remarkable  specimen  was  found  by  Mr.  Kennedy,  the 
companion  of  Mr.  Mitchell,  in  the  apex  of  a  basaltic  peak,  in  a  kind 
of  gap  of  the  range  of  hills  through  which  he  passed.  He  made  a 
drawing  of  it  on  the  spot.  The  accompanying  cut  will  show  th« 
general  appearance  of  these  curious  trees. 


AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN's    LAND. 


117 


Australia  is  consequently  called  the  Land  of  Anomalies  ;  but  if 
we  accept  the  theory  of  its  recent  growth,  these  phenomena  become 
intelligible.  All  its  featui-es  indicate  an  origin  dating  not  far  back 
in  the  history  of  creation.  Its  physical  structure,  as  we  have 
shown,  is  incomplete  and  peculiar ;  its  indigenous  vegetation  is  of 


THE    BARllEL   TREE. 


the  scantiest  description  ;  in  many  parts  its  soil  is  raw  and  unpro- 
ductive ;  while  its  fauna  belongs  to  the  lowest  orders  in  the  animal 
kingdom.  All  is  rough  and  crude  —  a  mass  of  disordered  elements 
unmoulded  into  the  beauty  of  perfect  nature  In  i-ne  river  system 
the  same  irregularity  prevails ;  no  more  than  thirty-five  mouths  of 
streams  have  been  discovered  along  the  whole  of  this  immense 
coast-line,  and  of  these  none  have  been  traced  more  than  two 
hundred,  and  few  more  than  fifty,  miles  from  the  shore.  They  are 
insufficient  to  the  drainage  of  a  tenth  part  of  the  island, — a  fact 
which  gave  rise  to  the  belief,  not  yet  altogether  exploded,  that  far 


118  AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN    DIEMEn's   LAND. 

inland  a  circular  range  of  mountains  existed,  down  •whose  inner 
slopes  numerous  rivers  poured  their  waters  through  the  plains  into 
a  great  central  sea.  There  is  still,  it  is  true,  a  vast  blank  around 
the  centre  of  Australia ;  but  travellers,  as  far  as  they  have  hitherto 
explored,  have  failed  to  discover  any  indications  of  this  lake.  Na- 
tives have  reported  the  existence  of  a  "great  water,"  breaking  in 
waves  higher  than  the  mast  of  a  ship ;  but  probably  they  had  trav- 
elled from  some  district  near  the  coast,  and  confounded  the  South- 
ern Ocean  with  the  inland  sea  of  which  the  wanderers  were  in 
search.  Violent  inundations,-  however,  certainly  do  occur,  when 
the  springs  in  the  mountains  discharge  volumes  of  water,  convert- 
ing small  streams  into  torrents,  and  spreading  the  waters  over  whole 
tracts  of  country.  Deceived  by  these  ephemeral  floods,  travellers 
have  brought  home  accounts  of  immense  lakes  extending  beyond 
the  reach  of  sight,  in  places  where  the  next  explorer  has  found  a 
grassy  plain,  covered  with  the  traces  of  a  dried-up  deluge.  In 
South  Australia  are  several  sheets  of  water,  but  few  of  them  large 
or  permanent.  The  Salt  Lake  Torrens,  discovered  by  Eyre,  lies 
at  a  distance  of  400  miles  from  the  sea,  almost  enclosing  a  circular 
tract  of  land  nearly  200  miles  across;  Lake  Alexandria,  which 
receives  the  waters  of  the  Murray  River,  is  the  most  extensive  of 
the  fresh-water  basins ;  while  scattered  along  the  banks  of  several 
streams  in  South  Australia,  and  Australia  the  Happy,  are  consid- 
erable expanses  of  water,  which  do  not  in  all  cases  bestow  on  the 
land  that  fertility  to  be  expected  from  such  an  abundance  of  irriga- 
tion. In  other  countries  rivers  are  the  great  fertilizers,  and  through- 
out their  course  clothe  their  borders  with  verdure.  In  Australia, 
only  the  higher  lands  thus  watered  are  verdant,  and  the  streams 
spread  themselves  over  a  barren  sandy  waste,  which  they  are  pow- 
erless to  reclaim. 

From  the  great  range  which  shuts  in  Sydney  on  the  west  descend 
numerous  streams,  which  flow  inland,  and  reach  the  plains  through 
rocky  and  tortuous  channels.  Those  below  the  latitude  of  33  de- 
grees empty  themselves  for  the  most  part  into  the  Darling,  which, 
after  a  long  and  winding  course,  joins  the  Murray  200  miles  from 
the  sea.  Those  above  pour  into  the  Lachlan,  the  Morumbidgee, 
and  the  Hume  —  also  tributaries  of  the  Murray  —  a  river  which, 
though  its  course  is  many  hundred  miles,  bears  no  proportion  to  the 
size  of  the  region  it  waters.  None  of  greater  magnitude  has  been 
discovered.  The  streams  in  South  Australia  and  Western  Aus- 
tralia are  in  comparison  insignificant ;  but  it  is  a  received  opinion 
among  many  geographers,  that  great  water-springs  exist  in  the 
island,  which  will  ultimately  burst  from   the  earth,  flow  togetlwr, 


AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN   DIEMEN'S  LAN9.  119 

form  for  themselves  channels,  and  find  outlets  at  various  places 
along  the  coast.  Springs  are  formed  by  the  accumulation  of  moist- 
ure in  the  cavities  and  gullies  of  hills,  and  this  process  is  at  first 
extremely  slow.  When  overcharged,  these  reservoirs  burst,  and 
emit  their  superfluous  waters,  at  first  by  an  occasional  ovei'flow,  but 
gradually  in  a  continuous  stream.  The  waters  wear  their  own 
channels,  growing  slowly  from  rivulets  to  rivers ;  and  in  Australia 
great  numbers  of  these  incipient,  half-developed  streams  exist.  At 
present,  in  the  river-system  of  Australia,  as  well  as  in  its  moun- 
tains, valleys,  and  geological  formations,  its  botany,  and  its  zoology, 
we  discover  a  strong  support  of  the  theory  that  this  region  is  of 
recent  emergence  from  the  ocean.  Formerly,  Captain  Sturt  be- 
lieves it  consisted  of  an  archipelago  of  islands.  The  bed  of  the 
ocean,  upheaved  by  the  agency  of  subterranean  fires,  raised  the 
whole  to  a  level ;  and  the  action  of  the  great  sea  sweeping  over  it, 
has  produced  those  strange  appearances  which  have  earned  for  Aus- 
tralia its  curious  title  —  The  Land  of  Anomalies.  The  researches 
of  travellers  in  the  interior  will  at  no  distant  day  lay  it  open  to 
examination ;  and,  when  the  great  doubt  is  removed,  science  will 
explain  with  accuracy  phenomena  at  the  present  day  so  perplexing. 

Over  such  a  vast  surface  of  the  earth  a  variety  of  climates  maj 
naturally  be  expected  to  prevail.  Throughout  Australia,  however, 
it  is  generally  salubrious  and  genial  to  the  European  constitution. 
The  third  part  of  the  island  —  the  north  —  lies  in  the  torrid,  the 
rest  in  the  temperate,  zone.  The  former  pact  is  not  yet  sufficiently 
known  to  allow  an  exact  description  of  its  salubrity ;  but  in  the 
extra-tropical  divisions  human  life  is  endangered  by  a  few  natural 
afflictions.  Endemic  diseases  are  all  but  unknown ;  small-pox, 
measles,  and  hooping-cough,  scarcely  ever  appear ;  but  dysentery 
is  common,  though  all  disorders  yield  to  simple  remedies.  It  may 
be  useful  to  state  a  point  on  which  the  best  authorities  agree,  that 
the  settler  in  Western  or  Southern  Australia  may  in  all  cases  pre- 
serve himself  for  the  honors  of  a  ripe  old  age  by  temperate  pru- 
dence ;  for  deaths  from  climateric  diseases  are  exceedingly  rare. 

The  plains  of  Tropical  Australia  are  swept  by  the  Indian  mon- 
soons —  blowing  north-west  about  the  beginning  of  November,  and 
south-east  in  the  early  part  of  April.  Rains  are  there  uncommon, 
but  the  air  is  generally  heavily  charged  with  damp,  and  iron  rusts 
after  a  few  hours'  exposure.  In  the  extra-tropical  divisions  a  mild 
drought  often  prevails.  On  the  lowlands  65  degrees  is  the  mean 
temperature  of  the  year,  but  the  atmosphere  rapidly  changes  to 
cold  as  the  surface  rises ;  while  on  the  peaks  of  the  moimtains  the 
©ai'th  is  eternally  clothed  with  snow-     The  order  of  the  seasoni 


120  AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

presents  a  curious  contrast  to  that  of  Europe;  from  March  to 
August  is  the  winter ;  the  rainy  season  is  in  May ;  while  summer 
lasts  from  September  to  February.  In  the  interior  the  weather, 
whether  wet  or  dry,  is  always  warm.  One  remarkable  feature  has 
been  observed,  or  we  should  rather  say  has  been  supposed,  to  exist 
in  the  climate  of  Australia :  at  intervals  of  twelve  years  a  period 
of  unmitigated  drought  prevails,  and  for  twelve  months  the  clouds 
never  send  down  their  gentle  showers  to  refresh  and  fertilize  the 
earth ;  following  this  is  a  year  of  continual  floods ;  after  this  the 
quantity  of  rain  decreases,  until  another  cycle  has  passed,  and  the 
land  is  once  more  parched  with  excessive  thirst.  Dews  are  abun- 
dant ;  thunder-storms  without  rain  last  for  several  days ;  and  on  the 
northern  coast  a  shock  of  earthquake  is  occasionally  felt. 

In  all  things  wandering  from  the  ordinary  course  of  nature, 
Australia  is  equally  strange  in  her  soil.  In  those  interior  deserts, 
a  few  times  traversed  by  the  traveller,  it  is  various ;  in  some  places 
a  red  tenacious  clay ;  in  others,  a  dark,  hazel-colored  loam,  rotten, 
and  full  of  holes;  in  others,  but  these  few  and  limited,  sandy. 
When  Sturt  was  exj^loring  this  dreary  waste,  he  vainly  looked  for 
evidence  of  a  hilly  country  near.  "  Had  we  picked  up  a  stone," 
he  says,  "  as  indicating  the  approach  to  dry  land,  I  would  have  gone 
on."  But  nothing  of  the  sort  was  found;  and  the  desert  ever 
widening  to  his  weary  view,  he  turned  about  and  retreated.  In  the 
sloping  lands  of  New  South  Wales,  however,  and  in  the  elevated 
valleys  of  Australia  Felix,  a  rich,  dry  vegetable  soil  prevails,  abun- 
dantly prolific.  In  the  rest  of  the  island,  the  soil,  like  the  river- 
system,  is  yet  in  the  mould  of  nature ;  and  doubtless  at  some  dis- 
tant period  every  prairie  throughout  this  magnificent  region  will 
smile  upon  the  immigrant,  like  those  fertile  "  Plains  of  Promise  " 
discovered  in  the  north  by  Captain  Stokes. 

Of  the  70,000  or  80,000  species  of  plants  described  by  botanists, 
5710  are  already  known  to  exist  in  Australia.  Of  these  only  270 
are  common  to  it  and  to  other  countries,  while  5440  are  altogether 
peculiar  to  its  extraordinary  soil.  Thus  this  island  contributes  to 
botany  nearly  a  twelfth  of  the  plants  known,  but  they  are  generally 
of  a  very  low  order.  Ferns,  nettles,  flowers,  and  grasses,  having 
the  form,  bulk,  and  habits  of  trees,  are  abundant ;  hard  timber, 
with  rosewood,  sandal  wood,  and  cedar,  is  plentiful ;  some  trees 
jdeld  the  purest  gums ;  while  the  leaves  of  others  are  used  as  tea. 
The  sassafras  and  castor-oil  have  been  discovered.  On  the  northern 
coast  palms  flourish  abundantly,  and  the  tropical  mangrove  exists  in 
those  parts  nearest  the  Indian  islands.  With  one  exception,  all  tho 
trees  of  Australia  are  evergreen.    No  dense  woods  have  been  found 


AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN    DIEMEN'S   LAND.  121 

and  the  groves,  from  a  peculiar  arrangement  of  their  foliage,  pre- 
sent a  strange  appearance  —  many  of  the  trees  having  their  leaves 
hanging  with  the  edge  downward.  Flowering  plants  of  excessive 
beauty  are  found ;  and  the  lily,  tulip,  and  honeysuckle  grow  to  the 
size  of  large  standard  trees.  There  are  many  odoriferous  shrubs, 
which  scent  the  air  to  a  considerable  distance.  In  the  interior  im- 
mense numbers  of  prickly  plants  cover  the  ground,  binding  down 
the  loose  soil,  and  preventing  that  drift  which  distinguishes  the  des- 
erts of  Arabia  and  Africa  from  the  Australian  wastes. 

Large  pastures  form  a  prominent  feature  in  the  aspect  of  the 
country ;  yet  a  heavy  English  sward  is  seldom  found.  Flax,  to- 
bacco, a  species  of  cotton,  tares,  indigo,  chicory,  trefoil,  and  burnet, 
(an  excellent  substitute  for  tea,)  are  natui-al  productions ;  but  of 
fruits  and  vegetables  fit  for  human  food  there  is  a  strange  scarcity. 
The  pith  of  a  reed  is  the  only  indigenous  substance  with  which 
bread  can  be  made,  and  the  only  known  fruits  are  raspberries,  cur- 
rants, one  or  two  tasteless  berries,  and  a  species  of  nut.  It  appears 
as  if  Australia  had  been  selected  for  colonization,  by  the  avidity  of 
civilized  man,  before  her  soil  was  sufficient  to  his  support ;  and  she 
was  called  on  to  nourish  the  children  of  an  overpeopled  land  ere  her 
breast  was  filled  by  the  rich  treasure  of  maternal  maturity.  Yet 
industry  may  be  said  to  have  outrun  nature,  and  completed  in  sixty 
years  the  task  which  centuries  would  not  have  accomplished.  Corn 
crops  and  orchards  abound  in  all  the  colonized  districts.  Every  species 
of  grain,  including  maize,  is  cultivated  with  success :  oranges,  lemons, 
citrons,  nectarines.,  apricots,  peaches,  plums,  cherries,  figs,  mulberries, 
quinces,  bananas,  guavas,  pine  apples,  grapes,  and  many  others,  the 
produce  of  Australian  soil,  are  sold  cheaply  in  the  Australian  mar- 
kets ;  and  doubtless  the  luscious  fruits  of  India  wiU  all  shortly  fol- 
low. The  sugar-cane  probably  would  thrive  in  the  lower  latitudes, 
but  the  colonists  prefer  pastoral  industry,  for  which,  indeed,  the 
land  afibrds  much  facility;  though  it  is  said  that  the  keep  of  a 
sheep  upon  the  native  grasses  requires  three  times  the  extent  of 
ground  which  in  a  moderately  fertile  district  in  England  would  fat- 
ten an  ox  in  summer,  and  keep  two  sheep  during  winter. 

The  zoology  of  Australia,  like  every  other  department  of  its  nat- 
ural history,  also  presents  extraordinary  features.  The  number  of 
known  species  of  mammalia  is  about  one  thousand.  Fifty-eight  are 
found  in  Australia,  of  which  forty-six  are  peculiar  to  it,  leaving 
twelve  only  which  it  contains  in  common  with  other  regions.  Even 
of  these,  five  are  whales  and  four  seals ;  another  is  the  strong-winged 
bat  of  Madagascar ;  another  like  the  jerboa  of  America ;  and  the 
loMt  the  dog  -  -  an  animal  found  always  where  man  exists,  and  rare- 


122  AUSTRAUA   AND   VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

ly,  if  ever,  where  he  does  not.  Kangaroos,  however,  are  almost  the 
only  important  animals.  In  the  birds  and  reptiles  similar  peculiar- 
ities exist,  while  of  fish  and  insects  no  account  has  ever  been  com- 
pleted. 

The  people  who  inhabit  this  extraordinary  region  belong  to  the 
Ethiopic,  which  is  the  lowest  family  of  the  human  race.  Many 
writers,  with  great  ingenuity,  have  attempted  to  trace  the  original 
colonization  of  Australia  to  a  horde  of  Malays  passing  over  in 
canoes  from  the  Indian  Archipelago,  across  Torres'  Straits,  to  the 
unknown  Southern  Land.  The  color  of  the  skin,  however,  the  for- 
mation of  the  skull  and  the  limbs,  with  the  genius,  the  habits,  and 
the  general  character  of  the  Australians,  identify  them  with  the 
negro  race  of  New  Guinea.  The  weapons  they  employ  are  similar, 
and  their  progress  in  the  industrial  arts,  as  well  as  their  mental 
qualities  and  conditions  of  existence,  being  infinitely  lower  than 
those  of  the  Malay,  and  closely  similar  to  those  of  the  Papuan, 
destroy  the  theory  of  their  Malayan  origin.  Traditions  they  have 
few,  and  those  but  faint  and  incoherent.  It  is  probable,  however, 
that  the  wild  savages  of  the  Indian  Archipelago,  driven  from  their 
original  homes  by  the  superior  civilization  of  the  Malays,  put  to  sea 
in  rude  canoes,  and,  reaching  the  mysterious  Southern  Land,  de- 
barked, and  gradually  peopled  the  wilderness.  They  left  their  own 
rich  islands  to  the  conquering  Malays,  deserting  a  contested  heri- 
tage for  one  where  security  and  peace  made  up  for  the  loss  of  a  soil 
gpontaneously  productive.  Liberty,  even  to  the  wild  savage,  is 
sweet,  and  life  more  cherished  still,  so  that  doubtless,  if  Australia 
was  unpeopled  at  so  late  a  period,  the  growth  of  the  Malay  empire 
in  the  East  scattered  the  swarms  of  Papua  along  its  desert  coast. 
That  an  infusion  of  other  blood  has  taken  place  is  probable,  but  not 
to  such  an  extent  as  to  have  influenced  the  character  of  the  popula- 
tion. The  old  custom  of  circumcision  is  found  at  two  places,  at 
opposite  extremities  of  the  island,  and  nowhere  else.  This  appears 
to  us  rather  as  a  traditional  custom,  originally  practised  by  the  whole 
race,  whose  size  has  dwindled  to  this  narrow  compass,  than  as  a 
grafted  habit  borrowed  from  the  Mohammedan  traders.  Thus  in 
Bali,  among  the  Indian  islands,  the  burning  of  widows  was  until 
recently  an  established  custom.  It  was  not,  however,  a  practice 
derived  from  accidental  intercourse  with  the  Hindoos,  but  the  relic  of 
a  mighty  empire  once  held  by  that  religion  in  the  further  East. 

The  Australian  aborigines  are  divided  into  numerous  tribes,  with 
distinct  modes  of  life  and  various  languages.  The  dialect  of  the 
south  is  a  strange  tongue  in  the  north,  and  the  northern  vocabu- 
lary is  wholly  unknown  in  the  east.     The  habitg  of  the  natives  are 


AtrSTRALIA   AND  VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND.  123 

unsociable:  they  seldom  come  into  contact,  except  in  war,  each 
tribe  wandering  at  will  through  the  solitudes,  where  they  have 
hitherto  held  an  empire  all  their  own.  Their  manner  of  existence 
in  some  measure  resembles  that  of  the  Californian  savages  —  dwel- 
ling in  huts  of  the  most  primitive  construction,  and  existing  on  the 
seeds  of  grass,  and  the  pith  of  reeds,  made  into  cakes.  Those  living 
near  the  coast  consume  large  quantities  of  fish,  which  they  roast, 
but  have  no  idea  of  the  effect  of  fire  upon  water.  A  shipwrecked 
sailor,  domiciled  among  a  tribe  of  Australians,  once  obtained  the 
reputation  of  a  sorcerer  by  boiling  a  potful  of  water.  They  gash 
their  bodies  with  decorative  scars,  and  strike  out  their  front  teeth, 
in  the  spirit  of  vanity  inherent  in  the  most  barbarous  as  well  as  the 
most  civilized  people.  An  English  trader  once  made  a  large  profit 
by  selling  in  London  a  number  of  these  teeth,  beautifully  large  and 
white,  for  the  use  of  the  dentists. 

The  color  of  the  Australian's  skin  is  lighter  than  that  of  the 
African  negro ;  his  form,  unencumbered  by  clothing,  is  well  pro- 
portioned ;  his  hair,  black  as  ebony,  is  twisted  about  the  head  in  the 
form  of  a  hoop ;  no  whiskers  or  moustaches  are  worn,  though  a 
scanty  beard  frequently  drops  from  the  chin ;  the  face  is  in  almost 
all  cases  ugly,  even  to  repulsiveness ;  the  nose  large  and  flat,  the 
mouth  extravagantly  distended,  the  ears  long,  the  forehead  retreat- 
ing, and  the  chin  highly  protuberant.  Nor  is  the  character  of  the 
Australian  more  alluring  :  to  lie  and  to  cheat  are  practices  almost 
universal  —  not  so  much  indicative  of  moral  depravity,  as  illustra- 
tive of  the  low  condition  in  which  these  savages  still  remain.  Among 
some  tribes  treachery  to  Europeans  ranks  among  the  virtues,  and 
basely  to  assassinate  a  white  man  is  considered  heroic.  We  knew  a 
naval  officer  who  was  stabbed  from  back  to  breast  by  one  of  these 
barbarians,  who  stole  on  him  as  he  sat  sketching  on  a  bank  in  a 
lonely  spot.  On  another  occasion,  two  Europeans,  engaged  in  mak- 
ing observations,  were  startled  by  a  loud  shout  from  above.  Look- 
ing up,  they  saw  with  horror  the  summit  of  a  lofty  bank  swarming 
with  savages,  who  quivered  their  spears,  and  were  evidently  intent 
on  the  strangers'  death.  The  Englishmen,  skilled  in  the  character- 
istics of  the  savage  mind,  immediately  commenced  dancing,  capering 
until  they  were  ready  to  sink  under  exhaustion.  Every  time  they 
paused  in  their  strange  exercise,  the  savages  lifted  their  spears 
with  threatening  gestures;  till  at  last,  weary  of  the  sport,  they 
quietly  retired. 

With  some  tribes,  however,  different  ideas  prevail,  and  shipwrecked 
men,  hungry  and  naked,  have  in  the  worst  hour  of  their  need  learned 
to  Wess  the  rude  but  honest  hospitality  of  an  Australian  savage. 


124  AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN   DIEMEN'S  LAND. 

Among  themselves  a  crude  social  system  exists.  Ideas  of  property 
are  very  distinct,  and  one  man  respects  the  roasted  fish  and  fried 
frogs  of  another  with  scrupulous  integrity.  Murders  are  rare,  and, 
when  they  occur,  are  punished.  It  is  the  opinion  of  certain  philos- 
ophers that  these  wild  men  will  never  be  reclaimed,  but  will  be 
driven  deeper  into  the  wilderness  as  colonization  proceeds,  until 
ultimately  all  will  perish  under  the  breath  of  civilization.  It  is 
hard  to  accept  this  theory,  though  there  is  unfortunately  much  in 
the  history  of  modern  times  to  lead  to  its  adoption.  "VVe  would 
rather  cling  to  the  philosophy  of  the  poet,  T.  K.  Hervey,  who 
writes  in  the  spirit  of  humanity,  in  language  of  the  loftiest  elo- 
quence, for  the  wild  man  of  the  Australian  desert — 

"  Yet  on  his  forehead  sits  the  seal  sublime 
That  marks  him  monarch  of  his  lovely  clime, 
And  in  his  torpid  spirit  lurk  the  seeds 
Of  manly  virtues  and  of  lofty  deeds. 
Within  that  breast  where  savage  shadows  roll 
Philosophy  discerns  a  noble  soul, 
That,  like  the  lamp  within  an  Eastern  tomb, 
But  looks  more  sickly  'mid  surrounding  gloom. 
Full  many  a  feeling  trembles  through  his  frame, 
For  which  he  never  knew  or  sought  a  name  ; 
And  many  a  holy  thought  but  half  supprest 
Still  lurks  'mid  all  the  tempest  of  his  breast. 
Pants  not  his  heart  with  human  hopes  and  fears, 
And  is  he  not  the  child  of  smiles  and  tears  ? 
'Tis  love  that  links  him  to  his  native  woods. 
And  pride  that  fires  him  while  he  breasts  the  floods, 
And  gloi'y  guides  him,  felt  but  undefined, 
To  battle  with  the  breakers  and  the  wind. 
To  tempt  the  torrent,  or  in  arms  to  claim 
The  savage  splendors  of  a  warrior's  name. 
True,  through  their  souls  all  fiercer  passions  run  — 
These  fiery  ones,  these  children  of  the  sun. 
But  gentler  thoughts  redeem  the  frenzied  mood  ; 
Represt,  but  quenchless,  hid,  but  unsubdued. 
Theirs  is  the  spell  of  home,  Avhere'er  they  rove; 
The  maiden  loves  with  all  a  maiden's  love; 
And  the  dark  mother,  as  she  rocks  her  boy, 
Feels  in  her  bosom  all  a  mother's  joy  !  " 

Where  the  human  hsart  is  warm  with  these  feelings,  it  is  surely 
susceptible  of  some  refinement.  An  anecdote  will  show  that  the 
mind  of  the  Australian  savage  is  not  blunt  to  all  the  better  passions 
of  humanity.  A  native,  named  Tonquin,  dwelling  on  the  banks  of 
the  Swan  River,  stabbed  one  of  his  comrades.  The  murderer  fled 
into  the  desert,  remaining  there  for  fifteen  days  alon*  with  the 


AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND.  125 

memory  of  his  crime.     When  he  reappeared  among  the  people  of 
his  tribe  he  was  a  maniac  —  heart-broken  by  remorse. 

The  Australians  recognize  a  benignant  god  and  a  variety  of  evil 
spirits,  especially  one  in  the  form  of  a  gigantic  serpent.  When  the 
winds  groan  over  the  hills  and  woods,  they  imagine  it  to  be  the  voice 
of  this  monster,  and  illuminate  the  plain  with  fires,  repeating  magic 
spells  to  scare  the  evil  one  away.  Notwithstanding  this  timidity, 
they  are  brave  in  battle,  though  trembling  in  the  presence  of  death. 
A  grave  placed  before  the  door  of  a  house  is  a  perpetual  safeguard 
against  thieves.  The  dwelling  of  a  lonely  settler  was  once  attacked 
by  the  natives,  of  whom  two  were  slain.  Their  bodies  were  buried 
in  front  of  the  house,  and  the  two  low  mounds,  haunted  with  the 
idea  of  death,  were  more  formidable  than  the  loftiest  walls.  Some 
of  the  tribes  enclose  their  dead  in  wrappings  of  leaves  and  bark, 
placing  them  among  the  branches  of  solitary  trees,  near  which  the 
vulture  sits  immovable,  with  drooping  wings,  waiting  for  the  last 
covering  to  drop  from  the  corpse.  Captain  Stokes  saw  one  woman 
who  continually  bore,  hanging  from  her  neck,  a  net  containing  the 
bones  of  a  little  child  whom,  during  its  short  term,  she  had  loved,  and 
over  whose  dear  remains  she  lingered  with  tearful  eyes,  imagining, 
in  the  warmth  of  her  maternal  fondness,  that  they  rose  before  her 
clothed  again  with  the  lineaments  of  life.  The  Australians  regard 
the  white  men  as  their  former  brethren,  whose  spirits,  purified  after 
death,  have  passed  into  superior  forms.  At  Perth,  one  of  the  col- 
onists was  twice  visited  by  a  strange  native,  who  had  heard  that 
there  had  come  to  his  land  a  lost  brother.  The  savage  travelled 
through  a  long  extent  of  hostile  country  to  behold  again  a  cherished 
friend  blessed  with  the  glory  of  a  second  life,  who  had  left  his  para- 
dise beyond  the  sea  to  revisit  the  scene  of  his  earthly  career. 

Three  ranks  of  society  prevail  among  the  aborigines  :  the  young 
men,  the  warriors,  and  the  aged  —  the  hierarchy  of  the  Australian 
commonwealth.  Simplicity  degenerate  is  their  characteristic.  Four 
slender  poles  planted  in  the  ground,  and  roofed  with  wattled  boughs 
form  a  palace  for  one  of  these  lords  of  the  creation ;  and  at  night, 
when  the  cold  winds  blow,  the  savage,  burying  himself  neck  deep 
in  the  sand,  warms  himself  literally  in  the  bosom  of  mother  earth. 

What,  however,  is  chiefly  interesting  to  the  English  reader,  is 
the  colonization  of  Australia.  First  in  order  of  the  settlements 
is  that  of  New  South  Wales,  It  was  the  earKest  established,  and 
has  risen  to  prosperity  by  more  rapid  degrees  than  any  other. 
From  a  miserable  convict  colony  it  has  become  a  valuable  depend- 
ence on  the  British  Empire,  with  a  flourishing  capital,  and  an 
increajsing  trade.     Sydney,  with  its  churches,  theatres,  forts,  hos- 


126  AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

pitals,  and  other  public  structures  —  its  banks,  hotels  —  its  parks 
and  promenades  —  above  all,  its  crowded  port  —  displays  all  the 
features  of  a  young  and  energetic  civilization.  Trade  is  developing 
'argely ;  its  population  has  become  an  important  consumer  of  British 
manufactures ;  and  its  towns  and  rural  districts  offer  a  fine  promise 
of  fortune  to  the  industrious  emigrant  from  the  mother  country. 
But  it  is  a  saying  no  less  expressive  than  true,  that  those  who  settle 
in  Australia  must  lay  by  their  kid  gloves,  cast  off  dainty  habits, 
customs,  forget  their  love  of  lounging,  and  look  to  themselves  only 
for  the  success  they  desire.  No  others  will  prosper  in  New  South 
"Wales.  The  youthful  colony  needs  no  soft-handed  Sybarites,  whose 
whole  life  is  the  realization  of  one  idea  —  comfort.  The  young,  with 
open  prospects  before  them  —  the  disappointed,  with  a  wreck  of  for- 
tune —  and  those  who  have  accumulated  a  small  store  of  wealth  by 
the  industry  of  a  life,  do  well  to  emigrate  to  Australia.  The  young 
may  look  for  opulence,  others  may  retrieve  their  losses,  and  the  old 
may  plant  their  vines  and  fig  trees  at  once  to  shade  their  heads  in 
age,  and  to  make  a  provision  for  their  children.  But  none  can  suc- 
ceed there,  or  in  any  other  colony,  who  forgets  these  important  rules 
—  to  depend  on  his  own  vigorous  industry,  to  be  frugal  and  sparing 
of  expenditure,  to  be  cautious  in  his  speculations,  and  watchful  when 
he  has  entered  into  them. 

Eighty  years  ago  the  adventurous  voyager  Captain  Cook  sailed 
along  the  eastern  coast  of  Australia,  and  there,  in  latitude  33°  south, 
discovered  a  commodious  inlet.  Near  the  water's  edge  he  saw  many 
curious  flowers  blooming  wild,  and  from  them  named  the  place  Bot- 
any Bay.  The  account  of  his  visit  was  circulated  in  England  ;  and 
when,  sixteen  years  later,  our  unhappy  war  with  America  had  closed 
up  the  great  outlet  for  crime,  it  was  resolved  to  establish  a  colony 
in  some  other  part  of  the  world.  The  African  coast  at  first  ap- 
peared convenient ;  but  the  idea  was  abandoned.  Then  the  exist- 
ence of  Australia  seems  first  to  have  been  remembered  in  England, 
and  the  idea  suddenly  flashed  upon  the 'public  mind  of  carrying  the 
seeds  of  British  population  to  people  the  "  Unknown  Southern 
Land."  Botany  Bay  was  thought  of.  In  1787  the  Sirius  and  the 
Supply,  with  six  transports  and  three  store-ships,  sailed  with  the 
germs  of  a  new  colony  on  board.  Besides  the  crews  and  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-six  marines,  there  were  seven  hundred  fifty-seven 
convicts  —  five  hundred  sixty-five  men,  and  one  hundred  ninety-two 
women.  Stores  and  provisions  for  two  years  were  taken,  besides 
agricultural  implements  and  tools,  with  all  the  necessaries  for  tha 
foundation  of  a  permanent  settlement.  Captain  Philip,  the  ap- 
pointed governor,  took  command  of  th^  squadron,  and  sailed  first  to 


■^       AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN    DIEMEN's    LAND.  127 

the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  then  belonging  to  the  Dutch,  where  live- 
stock and  seeds  were  procured.  At  Rio  Janeiro  more  stores  were 
taken  in,  and  the  expedition  steered  direct  for  the  new  land. 

Continuing  their  course,  they  reached  Australia  after  a  voyage  of 
eight  months  and  one  week.  On  January  20th  they  anchored  near 
the  antipodes  of  their  native  country  in  general  good  health.  Bot- 
any Bay  appeared  to  promise  little.  Water  seemed  scarce,  and  an 
aspect  of  aridity  on  the  surrounding  land  decided  them  to  go  else- 
where in  search  of  a  place  of  rest.  The  fleet,  therefore,  weighed 
anchor,  and,  as  they  left  the  bay,  two  French  ships  under  La  Perouse 
entered  it.  That  enterprising  discoverer  stayed  two  months  in  this 
haven,  and  then  set  sail  for  the  Pacific,  disappearing  forever  from 
the  sight  of  civilized  man. 

Drawing  near  an  opening  in  the  clifis,  a  few  miles  further  north, 
the  governor  went  to  examine  it  in  person.  The  natives  collected 
on  the  rocks,  shouting  to  the  strangers  to  go  away ;  but  they  perse- 
vered. Captain  Cook  had  reported  the  existence  in  this  neighbor- 
hood of  a  creek  where  boats  could  be  sheltered.  A  sailor  named 
Jackson,  however,  declared  that  a  great  haven  lay  within  the  mighty 
rocks  that  frowned  above  them ;  and,  entering  between  these,  the 
explorers  were  delighted  to  discover  a  harbor  of  many  miles 
in  extent.  A  fine  anchoring  ground  was  at  once  chosen,  and  the 
name  of  the  sailor  bestowed  on  the  harbor.  This  is  one  of  the  in- 
stances in  which  the  name  of  the  original  discoverer  has  remained 
fixed  to  the  scene  of  his  discovery. 

The  spot  chosen  for  debarkation  was  near  a  stream  of  fresh  water 
overshadowed  by  trees.  Every  man  literally  stepped  from  the  boats 
into  a  forest.  They  detached  themselves  into  parties,  and  the  pri- 
meval silence  of  the  shore  was  immediately  broken  by  sounds  which 
have  never  since  died  away.  Some  shouJdered  the  axe,  and  com- 
menced clearing  ground  for  the  difierent  encampments ;  some  pitched 
the  tents ;  some  brought  from  the  ships  the  necessary  stores,  and 
others  examined  the  capabilities  of  the  neighboring  soil.  Every  one 
wandered  freely  over  the  country,  and  wholesale  disposals  were 
made  of  land  which,  fifty  years  later,  was  worth  more  than  a  thou- 
sand guineas  an  acre. 

The  people  were  then  collected  together,  and  the  governor's  com- 
mission was  read,  with  letters-patent  for  establishing  courts  of  jus- 
tice. The  ground  was  gradually  cleared,  a  rude  farm  was  prepared 
to  receive  the  live  stock,  and  gardens  were  laid  out  for  the  planting 
of  seeds  and  roots.  The  Supply  was  then  sent  to  Norfolk  Island, 
a  thousand  miles  to  the  east,  to  form  a  settlement  on  a  spot  said  to 
bo  fevorable  to  the  cultivation  of  flax.   Thus  was  planted  the  colony 


128  AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN    DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

of  New  South  Wales.  Before  tracing  its  growth,  it  may  be  desir- 
able to  describe  the  territory,  and  show  upon  what  materials 
English  energies  were  then  set  to  work. 

From  a  point  on  the  eastern  coast,  near  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn, 
to  Portland  Bay,  on  the  south,  the  coast-line  of  New  South  Wales 
measures  more  than  1600  miles.  It  is  broken  by  many  safe  and 
spacious  harbors  —  the  gateways,  as  it  were,  of  a  country  diversified 
in  aspect,  with  a  rich  soil,  abounding  in  coal  and  iron,  and  intersected 
by  numerous  streams.  These  flow  from  the  ridge  of  mountains  we 
have  already  described,  winding  down  the  slopes,  and  traversing, 
with  a  tortuous  course,  the  maritime  districts,  and  discharging  them- 
selves into  the  sea  at  intervals  along  the  eastern  coast.  Few  of 
these  are  navigable,  even  for  small  craft ;  but  they  serve  to  enrich 
and  adorn  the  high  valleys  through  which  they  flow,  covering  the 
earth  with  fertility.  South  of  Sydney,  as  far  as  Bass'  Straits,  the 
mountains  encroach  so  nearly  to  the  sea  that  the  streams  are  mere  tor- 
rents ;  but  northward  are  several  fine  rivers  —  the  Hawkesbury,  the 
Apsley,  the  Brisbane,  &c.  Near  Port  Philip  others  have  been 
found ;  but  none  of  those  which  descend  the  eastern  slopes  of  the 
great  range,  and  follow  an  independent  course  to  the  sea,  are  of 
equal  magnitude  with  those  on  the  western  side,  which  swell  the 
waters  of  the  Murray.  Two  great  channels,  we  have  shown,  receive 
the  tribute  of  all  the  hills  from  the  Grampians  to  the  Darling 
Downs,  yet  hitherto  they  are  little  used  for  navigation.  For  the 
formation  of  highways,  however,  and  railways,  the  surface  of  New 
South  Wales  is  admirably  adapted  —  a  fact  which  compensates  in 
some  degree  for  its  poverty  of  water  communication,  in  all  countries 
the  easiest  and  most  obvious. 

The  climate  is  mild  and  proverbially  salubrious.  It  is  indeed 
commonly  compared  with  that  of  Southern  Italy,  but  the  remark 
should  be  accepted  with  reserve.  The  atmosphere  is  drier,  the  ex- 
tremes of  temperature  are  greater,  the  average  heat  is  less,  and  the 
air  becomes  colder  more  rapidly  as  we  ascend  the  hills. 

The  soil  of  New  South  Wales  is  capable  of  yielding  every  grain 
and  vegetable  useful  to  man,  with  fruit  in  rich  perfection,  and  in  the 
utmost  profusion  and  variety,  from  the  gooseberry  and  currant  of 
the  north  to  the  banana  and  pine-apple  of  the  fervid  tropics.  Even 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Sydney,  apples,  pears,  plums,  strawberries, 
cherries,  raspberries,  mulberries,  medlars,  apricots,  nectarines,  figs, 
grapes,  melons,  oranges,  olives,  lemons,  citrons,  loquots,  and  pome- 
granates, are  abundantly  produced ;  while  in  warm  and  sheltered 
situations  the  luscious  guava  and  banana  grow  intermingled.  Peaches 
—  never  in  England  a  very  common  fruit  —  are  abundant  to  excesfl 


AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN    DIEMEN's   LAND.  129 

in  New  South  Wales.  During  four  months  in  the  year  they  are 
produced  in  incalculable  profusion.  The  fruit  grows  everywhere  in 
all  soils.  A  peach  stone,  planted  no  matter  where,  will  in  three  or 
four  years  become  a  fine  productive  tree.  In  such  numbers  are  they 
gathered,  that  vast  piles  are  made,  which  are  left  to  ferment  in  the 
sun,  and  then  thrown  to  the  hogs,  who  fatten  magnificently  on  this 
dainty  food.  A  pleasant  and  wholesome  cider  is  made  from  the 
peach. 

Green  peas  are  gathered  in  winter  as  well  as  in  summer,  and  two 
crops  of  potatoes  are  produced  in  the  year  in  districts  near  the  sea- 
coast.  As  we  approach  the  hills,  the  cold  seasons  become  more 
severe.  Sharp  white  frosts  are  then  of  usual  occurrence,  and  snow 
lies  even,  on  the  lower  mountains.  On  well  chosen  soil  the  wheat 
crops,  with  good  cultivation,  average  from  twenty  to  thirty  bushels 
an  acre.  In  the  colder  district  of  Argyle  forty  bushels  an  acre  are 
often  obtained.  The  small  settlers  at  first,  however,  carried  on  so 
improvident  a  system  of  husbandry,  that  fifteen  bushels  was  the 
average  produce.  The  seed  season  for  wheat,  barley,  and  oats,  is 
from  March  to  June,  and  harvest  from  November  to  December. 
Maize,  the  most  prolific  of  all  grains,  sown  in  October  and  Novem- 
ber, ripens  in  March  and  June,  producing,  according  to  the  quality 
of  the  soil,  from  twenty  to  seventy  bushels  an  acre.  There  are 
thus  two  seed  and  two  harvest  seasons  in  New  South  Wales,  and  the 
sickle  and  the  drill  are  in  continual  employment. 

The  soil  and  climate  are  admirably  adapted  for  the  cultivation  of 
the  vine,  the  olive,  and  the  mulberry.  Many  vineyards  and  olive 
plantations  have  been  established,  and  flourish  well,  while  extensive 
fields  of  good  tobacco  alternate  with  the  other  species  of  cultivation. 
It  is  considered  probable  that  silk  and  dried  fruits  will  shortly  enter 
into  the  exports  of  the  colony,  nor  is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
the  capabilities  of  the  soil  remain  as  yet  incompletely  developed. 
Its  richness  is  singular ;  yet  for  the  food  of  civilized  man  nature  in 
New  South  Wales  has  produced  spontaneously  nothing.  Trees  of 
gigantic  growth,  flowers  of  brilliant  hues,  and  wholesome  pastures, 
abound ;  but  the  forests  are  not  hung  with  fruits,  the  fields  are  not 
covered  with  grain-bearing  grasses,  and  edible  roots  in  this  division 
of  the  island  are  unknown.  Yet,  as  we  have  said,  to  the  hardy 
settler  willing  for  a  while  to  eat  bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow, 
and  accumulate  fortune  by  diligent  industry,  no  country  in  the 
world  is  more  favorable  for  settlement.  There  is  a  fine  contrast  be- 
tween the  bleak  desolations  of  the  Blue  Mountains  and  the  fertility 
of  the  lower  provinces :  the  one  wild  and  terrible ;  the  other  pre- 
senting a  pleasant  prospect  of  green  and  beautiful  pastures,  graced 
9 


130  AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN   DIEMEN's   LAND. 

by  swarming  flocks,  with  towns,  and  villages,  and  decorated  villas, 
with  cultivated  lands,  and  all  the  signs  of  a  complete  civilization. 
Cattle  thrive  well  in  New  South  Wales,  where  the  pastures  are 
sweet  and  wholesome,  fattening  the  animals  well,  if  not  with  un- 
usual rapidity.  The  produce  of  grain  and  vegetables  will  always 
supply  the  colony  with  cheap  provisions ;  but  its  chief  commercial 
wealth  at  present  is  in  the  pastures,  where  the  millions  of  pounds 
of  wool  are  produced  which  now  form  so  important  an  article  of  ex- 
change for  the  manufactured  fabrics  of  Great  Britain. 

This  general  sketch  will  afford  an  idea  of  the  region  first  colo- 
nized by  the  English  in  January,  1788.  The  early  years  of  the  set- 
tlement were  far  from  prdfeperous.  Idleness,  ignorance,  crime,  and 
general  demoralization  prevailed.  Some  of  the  convicts  were  hanged, 
others  killed  themselves  by  excess,  and  others  fell  under  the  knives 
of  their  comrades.  And,  as  usual,  among  a  community  for  the  most 
part  criminal,  offences  were  rarely  punished,  because  the  •  offenders 
could  not  be  discovered.  There  is  a  strange  fidelity  among  the 
wicked.  Men  who  would  rob  one  another,  steal  a  pittance  of  food, 
and  quarrel  with  one  another  until  knives  were  drawn,  refused  to 
betray  a  fellow-culprit. 

The  great  difficulty  in  any  colony  is  its  support  during  the  early 
years  of  its  existence.  From  the  first,  this  object  was  steadily  kept 
in  view  by  Grovernor  Philip ;  but  the  idleness  and  inaptitude  of  the 
settlers  —  who  had  not  chosen  the  best  field  for  farming  operations  — 
contributed  to  bring  the  community  into  danger  of  famine.  Culti- 
vation proceeded  slowly  and  irregularly,  the  stores  were  wasted  and 
stolen,  the  provisions  decreased,  and  scarcity  threatened.  After  two 
years'  struggles  the  rations  were  reduced,  and  the  colony  languished 
in  despondency.  "VMiile,  however,  the  spirit  of  industry  flagged, 
and  the  land  lay  untilled  in  spite  of  the  danger,  an  eager  attention 
was  given  to  any  nimor  which  seemed  to  promise  wealth  without 
labor.  The  curse  of  many  colonies  has  been  a  mine  of  gold,  a  grovo 
of  spice  trees,  or  a  bank  of  costly  pearls,  for  they  allure  men  from 
industry  tp  spoil  the  earth  of  its  natural  treasures.  An  impostor 
among  the  convicts  knew  the  temper  of  his  companions.  With 
a  brass  buckle  and  a  guinea  he  manufactured  specimens  of  the 
precious  ore,  and,  displajdng  them,  endeavored  to  get  clothes  and 
provisions  from  the  stores  as  the  reward  of  his  discovery.  But  the 
•deceit  was  detected,  and  the  impostor  flogged  for  his  fraud.  The 
miserable  man  afterwards  ended  his  life  on  the  scaffold. 
^  A  flagstaff  was  now  erected  at  the  entrance  of  Port  Jackson,  to 
signal  the  arrival  of  any  ship :  as  the  provisions  sunk,  many  an 
tnxious  eye  was  turned  upon  the  staff,  desiring  the  expected  sign. 


AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN    CLEMEN 's    LAND.  131 

Alone,  on  that  remote,  inhospitable  coast,  they  dreaded  the  horrors  of 
famine,  though  somewhat  relieved  by  the  supplies  of  fish  brought  in 
three  times  a  week,  and  distributed  in  equal  rations  to  the  whole 
community.  The  governor  made  no  exception  in  his  own  favor, 
faring  as  the  rest  fared ;  and  when  a  party  was  collected  at  the 
government  house,  each  guest  was  requested  to  bring  a  supply  of 
provisions  for  himself.  In  1790,  though  the  rations  had  been  re- 
duced by  one  half,  there  were  only  four  months'  supplies  in  the 
colony,  and  some  measures  were  necessary  to  check  the  approach  of 
famine.  It  was  resolved  to  plant  a  settlement  on  Norfolk  Island. 
Two  hundred  and  one  convicts,  men,  women,  and  children,  were  sent 
thither,  and  a  vessel  was  despatched  to  Batavia  for  supplies.  The 
Sirius,  bearing  her  criminal  burthen  to  Norfolk  Island,  landed  them, 
and  was  immediately  afterwards  wrecked  upon  the  coast.  A  lofty 
hill  was  observed,  whither  at  evening  enormous  flights  of  birds  pro- 
ceeded from  the  sea,  where  all  day  they  collected  food.  Their  eggs 
were  gathered  in  vast  quantities,  apd  when  fires  were  kindled  to 
attract  their  notice,  the  birds  came  down  in  such  numbers,  that  2000 
or  3000  were  taken  every  night.  From  the  circumstance  of  this 
occurring  at  a  time  of  great  need,  these  birds  were  called  the  Birds 
of  Providence. 

Meanwhile  more  convicts  arrived  at  Port  Jackson ;  death  struck 
down  numbers  of  the  first  comers ;  sickness  prostrated  nearly 
500  at  a  time  ;  and  a  state  of  demoralization  followed  which  ren- 
dered the  young  colony  of  New  South  Wales  a  lazar-house  of  crime 
and  misery.  Five  men,  endeavoring  to  escape,  put  to  sea  in  a  boat, 
steered  for  Otaheite,  and  were  doubtless  drowned  in  the  abysses  of 
the  Pacific.  Many  of  the  Irish  started  off,  intending  to  travel 
across  the  whole  region,  and  reach  China  overland  —  for  only  so  far 
had  our  knowledge  of  the  country  then  proceeded.  Probably  they 
■were  killed  by  the  natives,  though  some  of  them  may  have  become 
domesticated  among  them,  and,  adopting  their  customs,  sank  into  the 
savage  state.  Next  year  ten  ships  arrived  wkh  upwards  of  1000 
convicts,  and  their  coming  imparted  an  air  of  life  and  activity  to  the 
infant  city  of  Sydney.  Various  public  works  and  buildings  were 
commenced  ;  tanks  were  cut  in  the  rocks  to  provide  agaigst  dry 
seasons ;  and  fresh  land  was  got  ready  for  the  cultivation  of  Indian 
corn.  Some  of  the  ships,  after  discharging  their  cargoes,  were  em- 
ployed with  considerable  success  in  the  whale  fisheries ;  while  many 
of  the  convicts  were  for  good  behavior  released,  on  condition  of  re- 
maining in  the  country  to  fulfil  the  terms  of  their  sentence,  while 
those  who  had  already  passed  their  terms,  and  were  willing  to  re« 
main,  received  allotments  of  land. 


132  AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

At  the  end  of  1791,  when  the  colony  had  been  established  four 
years,  the  public  live-stock  consisted  of  one  aged  stallion,  one  mare, 
two  young  stallions,  two  colts,  sixteen  cows,  two  calves,  one  ram, 
fifty  ewes,  six  lambs,  one  boar;  fourteen  sows,  and  twenty-two  pigs. 
The  cultivated  ground  amounted  to  three  hundred  acres  of  maize, 
forty  of  wheat,  six  of  barley,  one  of  oats,  four  of  vines,  and  eighty- 
six  of  garden  ground,  besides  seventeen  under  culture  by  the  sol- 
diers of  the  colonial  corps.  These  were  the  humble  beginnings  of 
that  wealthy  colony,  to  which,  in  the  first  half  of  the  year  1850, 
we  exported  more  yards  of  cotton  cloth  than  to  the  whole  Austrian 
empire.  When  we  reach  the  present  state  of  the  province  it  will 
be  seen  what  advance  has  been  made. 

Six  years  after  the  foundation  of  the  settlement,  a  church  was 
built  of  wood  and  thatch,  costing  £40,  and  employed  during  the 
week  as  a  school-house,  where  two  hundred  children  were  instructed 
by  the  chaplain.  Meanwhile  the  mortality  increased,  provisions  ran 
low,  and  famine  again  became  imminent.  All  the  while  the  utmost 
discontent  prevailed.  Fifty-three  persons  were  missing  at  one  time, 
all  of  whom  had  deserted  in  the  delusive  hope  of  reaching  China 
overland.  Crimes  and  punishments  multiplied,  and  the-  infancy  of 
the  colony  was  passed  in  the  most  disheartening  confusion.  Drunk- 
enness and  gambling  demoralized  the  community,  the  spirit  of  sloth 
invaded  it,  and  it  became  dependent  on  importations  of  corn.  The 
live  stock,  however,  increased.  A  few  animals  strayed,  and  some 
years  after  there  was  discovered  on  the  banks  of  the  Nepean  river 
a  herd  of  upwards  of  sixty  cattle,  wandering  over  pastures  of  fine 
sweet  grass,  thinly  scattered  over  with  trees,  and  dotted  with  large 
ponds.  Upon  the  surface  of  these  sheets  of  water,  fringed  with 
beautiful  shrubs,  ducks  and  black  swans  swam  to  and  fro.  Perceiv- 
ing the  value  of  a  wild  breed  of  cattle  near  the  settlement,  the 
governor  arranged  that  no  part  of  this  fertile  tract  —  to  this  day 
known  as  the  Cow-Pastures  —  should  be  allotted.  In  consequence 
of  this  the  animals  multiplied  so  rapidly,  that  before  1813  the 
60,000  acres  were  unequal  to  contain  them.  A  severe  drought  fol- 
lowing, they  died  by  thousands ;  and  from  that  period  the  Pastures 
were  allotted,  and  the  wild  herds  retreated  to  a  greater  distance  from 
the  sea. 

Captain  Hunter,  the  second  governor  of  the  colony,  was  an  ad- 
venturous man.  He  explored  the  country,  and  ^larged  the  boun- 
daries of  the  settlement.  Several  valuable  discoveries  were  made 
during  his  administration.  In  1796,  some  men,  fishing  in  a  little  bay 
considerably  to  the  north  of  Port  Jackson,  found,  at  a  little  distance 
from  the  beach,  quantities  of  coal  scattered  over  the  ground.     Near 


AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DTKMEX's    LAND.  133 

the  spot  a  considerable  river,  now  nanie.l  the  Kanter,  discharges 
itself  into  the  sea.  The  valuable  mineral  was  obtained  in  abun- 
dance, and  a  township  has  now  been  established  there,  which  supplies 
the  whole  colony  with  this  fiiel.  A  large  trade  in  lime,  obtained  from 
immense  quantities  of  oyster-shells  thrown  up  on  the  beach,  is  car- 
ried on  at  this  place  —  appropriately  named  Newcastle. 

Through  all  its  struggles  Sydney  continued  to  rise,  and  by  slow 
degrees  free  settlers  from  England  arrived.  Government  provided 
their  passage,  their  tools  and  implements,  allotments  of  land,  pro- 
visions for  two  years,  and  clothes  for  one.  Soldiers  and  convicts 
also  turned  farmers,  and  individual  instances  of  prosperity  encour- 
aged the  rest.  One  man,  to  whom  Governor  Philip  had  in  1792 
granted  a  ewe  for  breeding,  found  himself  in  seven  \'Cars  proprietor 
of  11(5  sheep,  and  on  the  high  road  to  opulence.  A\'hiie  some  ap- 
plied themselves  to  the  rearing  of  flocks  and  herds,  others  pursued 
agriculture,  and  many  beautiful  farms  were  established  on  the  banks 
of  streams  near  the  little  town  of  Sydney.  A  gradual  change 
came  over  the  face  of  the  province.  From  a  wild  forest  it  became 
a  pastoral  country,  with  houses,  stacks,  and  sheds,  fields  well  fenced, 
and  all  the  usual  features  of  well-directed  industry.  In  the  last 
year  of  the  eighteenth  century  a  great  flood  took  place.  From  some 
unknown  cause,  the  river  Hawkesbury  s'ivelled  to  an  enormous  vol- 
ume ;  and  a  settler,  whose  dwelling  stood  on  a  hill,  near  a  beautiful 
bend  of  the  stream,  saw  at  one  moment,  floating  with  the  flood,  no 
less  than  thirty  wheat-stacks,  on  some  of  which  were  numerous  pigs 
and  poultry,  vainly  seeking  refuge  from  the  rising  of  the  waters. 
The  consequences  of  this  disaster  were  most  calamitous.  Wheat 
rose  to  30s.  a  bushel  in  a  colony  where  it  had  at  times  been  thro^v'n 
to  the  pigs,  and  Indian  corn  became  equally  scarce. 

In  course  of  time  roads  were  made  through  difierent  parts  of  the 
colony;  and,  in  1813,  when  the  settlers  resolved  to  widen  their  ter- 
ritory, a  pas3age  was  found  across  the  Blue  Mountains.  A  drought 
in  the  maritime  plains  and  valleys  compelled  the  colonists  to  seek 
pasturage  beyond ;  and,  driving  their  sheep  and  cattle  through  the 
passes,  they  came  down  upon  the  plentiful  plains  of  Bathurst.  An 
excellent  road,  100  miles  in  length,  now  connects  Sydney  and  the 
town  which  soon  sprang  up  in  the  new  territory. 

In  Governor  Bligh's  time  an  insurrection  upset  the  government, 
which  was  with  difficulty  restored.  A  contest  then  broke  out  be- 
tween two  parties  in  the  community  —  the  Exclusionists,  who,  in 
the  petty  pride  of  honesty,  refused  to  associate,  even  in  the  oflSces 
of  charity,  with  the  tainted  population ;  and  the  Emancipists,  who 
considered  that  a  convict,  after  his  term  of  punishment  expired,  was 


134  AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DIKMEn's   LAND. 

as  good  as  any  other  man.  The  first  endeavored  to  stamp  the  crim- 
inal with  an  ineffaceable  brand  of  infamy ;  the  second,  perhaps  too 
hurriedly,  sought  to  produce  a  mingling  of  the  convicted  and  uncon- 
victed classes.  The  governor,  Maquarrie,  famous  for  his  success  in 
road-making,  exerted  himself  philanthropically  to  raise  the  convicts 
from  their  degradation,  and  thus  came  into  collision  with  the  senti- 
mentality of  a  few  little-minded  Exclusionists.  During  the  twelve 
years  of  his  administration  New  South  Wales  increased  "in  extent 
and  prosperity,  while  the  boundaries  of  discovery  were  pushed 
still  further  westward.  Bathurst  Plains,  and  the  ways  to  them, 
were  discovered ;  the  district  of  Argyle  was  opened  to  the  enter- 
prise of  the  settlers ;  two  rivers,  the  Lachlan  and  the  Maquarrie, 
were  traced  beyond  the  Blue  Mountains,  until  they  were  sup- 
posed to  flow  into  pathless  swamps;  while  northwards  the  river 
Hastings,  with  a  large  tract  of  pasture-land,  called  Liverpool  Plains, 
was  discovered.  A  penal  settlement  for  the  punishment  of  refrac- 
tory convicts  was  formed  on  the  Emu  Plains;  another  at  Newcas- 
tle, near  the  mouth  of  the  Hunter ;  and  a  third  at  Port  Maquarrie, 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Hastings,  about  180  miles  north  of  Sydney. 
When  Maquarrie's  administration  began,  the  settlement  was  in  a 
state  of  imbecility,  disabled  by  privation,  the  country  impenetrable 
beyond  forty  miles  of  Sydney,  agriculture  indifferently  carried  on, 
commerce  only  beginning,  and  no  revenue;  famine  ever  on  the 
threshold,  factions  continually  alive,  public  buildings  falling  into 
ruin,  a  few  miserable  roads  commenced,  a  people  depressed  by  pov- 
erty, abased  by  crime,  and  utterly  careless  of  religion.  He  left  it 
with  brightening  prospects,  with  an  enlivening  energy  pervading  the 
community,  and  elevated  hopes  moving  men  to  vigorous  action.  The 
port-dues  of  Sydney  had  risen,  from  1810  to  1822,  from  £8000  to 
£30,000  per  annum.  A  population  of  29,783,  of  whom  13,814 
were  convicts,  now  labored  with  energy  for  the  public  good.  From 
that  period  the  struggles  of  the  colony  were  less  severe,  and  its 
strength  was  greater.  Accounts  of  its  resources  were  circulated 
throughout  Great  Britain ;  men  brought  home  fortunes,  and  those 
who  emigrated  in  poverty  counted  their  acres  and  their  flocks  by 
thousands.  To  trace  the  progress  of  the  settlement  to  its  present 
condition,  through  every  change  of  fortune,  would  be  an  interesting 
task,  but  it  would  be  incompatible  with  our  limits.  A  glance  at  its 
actual  state,  however,  is  necessary. 

Among  the  twenty-one  counties  into  which  the  territory  of  New 
South  AV^ales  is  divided,  Cumberland  is  the  most  populous  and  im- 
portant, though  not  the  most  fertile.  The  capital,  Sydney,  with  the 
prosperous  towns  of  Paramatta,  Windsor,  Liverpool,  and  others, 


AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DIEMEn's    LAND.  135 

give  it  preeminence.  It  consists  of  an  undulating  plain,  stretching 
from  north  to  south  53  miles,  and  from  the  base  of  the  Blue 
Mountains  to  the  coast,  which  is  broken  by  many  creeks  and  inlets, 
of  which  the  noble  harbor  of  Port  Jackson  is  the  most  remarkable. 
Near  the  sea  the  soil  is  poor  and  unproductive,  but  inland  the  coun- 
try improves,  the  woods  thin,  the  valleys  become  verdant,  and  the 
hills  excessively  fertile.  The  borders  of  the  Hawkesbury  and  Ne- 
pean  rivers  are  covered  with  rich  soil,  spread  over  extensive  flats, 
finely  cultivated.  Good  water  is  not  plentiful,  though  by  boring 
wells  this  might  in  a  great  measure  be  remedied.  There  are  900,000 
acres  in  the  county,  of  which  little  more  than  a  third  is  fit  for  prof- 
itable cultivation.  All  the  good  land  has  been  granted  away ;  but 
a  curious  fact  is,  that  the  greatest  abundance  of  wat^r  is  found  on 
the  most  ungracious  soils. 

The  next  county  southward  is  Camden,  with  66  miles  of  coast- 
line, and  a  breadth  of  55.  It  is  more  mountainous  than  Cumber- 
land, with  lofty  timber,  alternating  with  tracts  of  great  fertility. 
Illawara  district  contains  150,000  acres  of  fine  deep  soil,  whose 
rich  qualities  may  be  perpetually  preserved  by  a  manure  of  decayed 
shells  found  upon  the  shore.  The  most  delightful  landscapes  abound 
in  this  favored  region,  wooded  hills,  and  beautiful  streams ;  while 
the  Shoal  Haven  River,  navigable  for  ships  of  eighty  or  ninety  tons, 
bears  its  produce  to  the  capital.  The  60,000  acres  of  the  Cow- 
Pastures  are  now  sheep-farms,  well  watered.  There  are  no  impor- 
tant towns  in  this  county. 

Next  to-  this  is  Argyle,  a  lofty,  rugged  district,  well  timbered, 
but  containing  many  broad,  bare  levels,  like  Goulbourn  Plains,  which, 
are  twenty  miles  long,  and  ten  wide.  Two  remarkable  lakes  — 
George  and  Bathurst  —  exist  here,  supposed  to  be  of  recent  forma- 
tion. The  natives,  indeed,  declare  that  they  remember  the  period 
when  their  beds  were  dry.  Bathurst  County  lies  inland,  due  west 
of  Cumberland,  divided  from  it  by  the  Blue  Mountains ;  it  is  72 
miles  long  by  68  wide,  approaching  in  shape  an  irregular  square. 
Downs,  like  those  of  Sussex,  extend  along  the  banks  of  the  Maquarrie 
for  more  than  100  miles,  and  among  them  Bathurst  Plains,  con- 
taining upwards  of  50,000  acres  of  the  most  fertile  land,  with  a 
cool  climate  that  reddens  the  cheeks  of  children. 

North  of  Cumberland  county  is  that  of  Northumberland,  meas- 
uring about  60  miles  by  50.  Its  general  appearance  is  undulating, 
with  high  table-lands  among  the  hills.  Here  are  the  coal-mines, 
near  one  of  the  principal  towns  —  Newcastle  —  with  the  productive 
farms  which  dot  the  valley  of  the  Hunter — a  stream  navigable  for 
Email  craft  50  miles  from  the  sea.     Boats  may  ascend  200  milcsi 


136  AUSTRALIA    AND    TAN    DIEMEn's    LAND. 

but  frequent  and  violent  floods  interrupt  the  navigation.  The  coal, 
found  in  most  parts  of  New  South  Wales,  is  most  abundant  here. 
A  company  obtained  a  grant  of  the  mines  from  government,  and,  in 
1836,  12,646  tons  were  delivered  at  the  pits'  mouth,  at  9s.  a  ton. 
Steamers,  introduced  five  years  before,  now  ply  so  frequently  along 
that  remote  coast,  that  the  demand  has  enormously  increased.  In 
this  Land  of  Anomalies  the  coal  district  is  the  most  fertile,  for  not 
even  the  rich  vales  of  the  Hawkesbury  or  Nepean  can  vie  with 
the  borders  of  the  Hunter  River.  Maitland  is  the  largest  town, 
and  its  market  supplies  Sydney  with  potatoes,  tobacco,  cheese,  and 
butter.  The  district  is  liable  to  one  great  evil  —  namely,  the  fre- 
quency of  floods,  which  often  rise  forty  or  sixty  feet,  pouring 
through  the  valley,  and  sweeping  away  all  traces  of  cultivation. 

Of  the  counties  still  imperfectly  known,  only  partially  colonized, 
and  almost  completely  undeveloped,  there  are  Bligh,  Brisbane, 
Durham,  Gloucester,  Wellington,  Philip,  Hunter,  Roxburgh,  Cook, 
Georgiana,  Westmoreland,  King,  Murray,  St.  Vincent,  Stanley, 
and  Maquarrie.  Distributed  among  the  whole  are  about  forty-five 
"chief  towns,"  above  which  Sydney  stands  the  mistress  of  them 
all. 

Port  Jackson,  with  an  entrance  three-quai-ters  of  a  mile  wide,  a 
length  of  fifteen,  and  a  breadth  of  three,  would  afford  shelter  to 
fleets  of  the  largest  size.  Around  it  spreads  a  panorama  of  varied 
landscapes.  Towards  the  sea  are  scattered  picturesque  islets ; 
northward  rise  long  chains  of  rugged  cliffs ;  southward  the  wide 
harbor  of  Botany  Bay  extends  ;  and  westward  the  stately  forest, 
broken  by  occasional  clearings,  still  reminds  the  spectator  that  he 
is  in  a  new  country,  fresh  from  nature,  with  all  the  features  of 
youth  impressed  upon  it. 

The  city  of  Sydney  covers  a  considerable  space  of  ground.  It 
is  laid  out  on  a  regular  plan,  with  straight  streets  crossing  at  right 
angles,  and  adorned  with  many  large  and  some  elegant  buildings. 
Quays,  wharfs,  and  forts,  government  buildings,  churches,  hospitals, 
hotels,  custom-houses,  newspaper  offices,  bari-acks,  assembly-rooms, 
post-offices,  police  offices,  market-places,  banks,  insurance-offices, 
chapels,  theatres,  and  a  cathedral,  adorn  streets  lively  with  the  rattle 
of  superb  carriages,  cabs,  horsemen,  and  omnibuses.  There  is  little 
in  Sydney  to  distinguish  it  from  an  English  town,  except  the  scenery 
surrounding  it,  for  scarcely  a  street  is  not  called  after  some  name 
familiar  in  "  the  old  country."  The  "  Sydney  Morning  Herald," 
the  ''Sydney  Chronicle,"  the  "Atlas,"  "Bell's  Life  in  Sydney," 
the  "Daily  Advertiser,"  the  "Australian  Journal,"  and  the 
*' Sydney  Guardian,"  exist  to  impress  on  the  settler's  mind,  that 


AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DIEMEN's    LAND.  187 

ill  leaving  his  mother-land  he  has  not  left  the  luxury  of  newspapers 
and  leading  articles. 

In  the  market-place  of  this  flourishing  city  we  find  wheat  at  4s. 
the  bushel  of  sixty  pounds,  and  Indian  corn  at  Is.  6d. ;  potatoes 
at  £6  a- ton ;  beef  at  2d.  or  3d.  a  pound ;  fresh  butter  Is.,  tea  2s., 
moist  sugar  3d.,  tobacco  9d.,  candles  4d.,  mutton  l^d.  or  2d.,  veal 
4(3.,  and  bread,  best  quality,  14-d.  a  pound.  All  other  articles  of 
consumption  are  in  proportion.  Fruit  is  excessively  cheap.  Most 
of  the  neighboring  counties  contribute  to  supply  Sydney  with  pro- 
visions, consumed  by  a  population  of  60,000  persons.  The  most 
expensive  part  of  living  is  house-rent,  for  a  moderate  habitation, 
unfurnished,  can  be  hired  for  nothing  less  than  £100  a  year.  The 
number  of  houses  in  Sydney  is  about  7500;  and  in  the  whole  col- 
ony little  more  than  35,000. 

Of  the  other  towns  in  New  South  Wales,  numerous  as  they  are, 
a  detailed  description  cannot  be  afforded.  They  are  all  similar  to 
Sydney  in  plan  and  aspect,  differing  only  in  size  and  situation, 
and  the  character  of  the  public  buildings.  When  we  estimate  their 
number,  consider  the  commerce  which  supports  them,  and  glance 
at  their  rapid  growth  in  a  region  where,  sixty  years  ago,  there  was 
not  a  village  standing,  it  is  with  excusable  pride  that  we  point  to 
New  South  Wales  as  an  example  of  national  energy. 

Sixteen  years  ago  the  population  of  New  South  Wales  was 
77,096.  In  eight  years  it  rose  to  173,377,  and  is  now  more  than 
220,000,  in  the  proportion  of  60  women  to  100  men.  The  ex- 
ports average  three  millions,  and  the  imports  more  than  two  millions 
and  a  half  a  year ;  while  the  revenue,  now  increasing  at  the  rate 
of  £10,000  a  quarter,  has  risen  from  £183,218,  in  1836,  to  £288,^ 
044,  in  1849.  Sixteen  million  pounds  of  wool  are  annually  pro- 
duced in  this  colony,  where,  as  we  have  shown,  there  existed,  in 
1791,  1  ram,  50  ewes,  and  6  lambs.  Contrasting  with  that  ac- 
count of  live-stock,  the  following  figures  appear  startling  :  —  98,000 
horses;  1,366,200  horned  cattle  ;  6,530,000  sheep;  and  myriads 
of  pigs,  the  descendants  of  that  solitary  boar  which,  sixty  years 
ago,  represented  the  species  in  New  South  Wales.  Now,  if  the 
reader  recollects  the  account  of  the  land  then  under  culture,  he  will 
hear  without  surprise  that  nearly  200,000  acres  are  now  annually 
cultivated,  producing  more  than  3,000,000  bushels  of  grain,  and 
60,000  tons  of  potatoes,  tobacco,  and  grasses  for  hay.  It  is  nec- 
essary thus  to  introduce  a  few  figures  in  illustration  of  this  interest- 
ing subject. 

Since  1840  no  convict-ship  has  debarked  its  corrupting  burthen 
at  the  harbor  of  Sydney;    and,  since  its  emancipation  from  this 


138  AUSTRALIA    AND   VAN    DIEMEn's    LAND. 

curse,  the  colony  has  received  the  right  of  partial  self-government, 
returning  its  own  representatives.  Recently  an  amended  constitu- 
tion has  been  granted  it,  and,  blessed  with  these  advantages,  we 
may  look  to  its  continued  progress  among  the  most  prosperous  col- 
onies in  the  world.  Vessels  continually  leave  our  own  shores 
bound  for  this  "  land  of  plenty  ;"  but  we  fear  that  many  are  dis- 
appointed through  the  extravagance  of  their  expectations.  The 
earth  was  given  to  man,  that  he  should  live  on  it  by  labor ;  and 
the  slothful  will  find  in  New  South  Wales,  as  at  home,  that  they 
may  wait  long  at  their  doors  before  sixpenny  pieces  will  fall  like 
the  manna  from  heaven. 

The  colony  contiguous  to  New  South  Wales  is  South  Australia. 
It  was  originally  projected  in  1831,  when  a  committee  was  formed 
in  London  for  establishing  a  chartered  company  to  settle  the  coun- 
try. The  project  failed ;  but  three  years  later  another  association 
applied  for  an  act  of  Parliament  to  er£ct  South  Australia  into  a 
British  province.  Meetings  were  held,  the  preliminary  arrange- 
ments were  carefully  made,  and  a  colony  was  established.  Its  ter- 
ritory extends  from  the  122d  to  the  141st  degree  of  east  longitude, 
and  runs  up  northward  as  far  as  the  26th  parallel  of  latitude. 
There  was  for  some  time  a  discussion  as  to  boundaries ;  but  the 
governments  of  Adelaide  and  Sydney  have  amicably  adjusted  the 
point,  and  marked  a  line  to  the  distance  of  123  miles  from  the 
coast.  The  shore  is  wild,  and  broken  by  many  bays,  into  which 
the  Southern  Ocean  rolls  in  tremendous  breakers.  In  the  waters 
of  Encounter  Bay  —  always  white  with  foam  —  a  successful  whale 
fishery  is  carried  on.  The  first  settlement  formed  by  the  South 
Australian  Company  was  at  Kingscote,  in  Kangaroo  Island,  off 
the  shores  of  Nepean  Bay,  at  the  mouth  of  St.  Vincent's  Gulf.  A 
town  was  laid  out,  and  some  houses  built ;  but  the  place  was  offi- 
cially abandoned  some  years  ago,  though  a  pretty  seaport  town 
remains,  with  a  good  harbor.  Penetrating  the  gulf  about  seventy 
miles,  we  reach  Port  Adelaide,  and  landing,  proceed  towards  the 
town.  Vilkiges,  cottages,  and  farms,  are  scattered  over  the  monot- 
onous flats,  and,  after  traversing  the  swamps  near  the  sea,  the  emi- 
grant finds  himself  on  the  Park  Lands,  rich  and  beautiful,  where 
Adelaide  stands  on  the  first  elevated  ground.  Westward  lie  the 
plains  of  Adelaide,  with  the  sea  running  up  St.  Vincent's  Gulf  ; 
eastward  a  richly-wooded  country  extends  down  to  the  valley  of  the 
Jlurray,  beyond  which  spread  forest  and  plains  as  far  as  the  heights 
of  "  Lofty  Range."  Lower  down,  and  separated  by  the  valley  of 
the  Torrens  from  the  upper  town,  stands  South  Adelaide  on  a  flat 
surface      It  is  large,  and  densely  built,  and  forms  the  commercial 


AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN's    LAND.  139 

division  of  the  city,  containing  tbe  government-house  and  other 
public  structures.  Some  handsome  edifices  have  been  erected  ;  and 
Hindley  Street  and  Rundle  Street  would  do  no  discredit  to  a  sec- 
ond-class city  in  England.  Cburches,  schools,  banks,  and  other 
buildings  decorate  the  broad  thoroughfares,  and  outside  a  prom- 
enade, half  a  mile  wide,  runs  round  the  city.  Its  inhabitants  here 
enjoy  the  mild  evenings,  and  crowd  upon  it,  like  our  own  citizens 
in  the  parks,  with  cheerful  faces,  doubtless  sometimes  contrasting 
their  position  with  that  of  those  whom  they  have  left  behind  to 
struggle  with  extravagant  competitors  in  the  mother  country.  Lit- 
tle more  than  twelve  years  have  passed  since  the  first  wooden  dwel- 
ling was  erected  on  the  spot  where  now  stands  Adelaide,  the  capital 
of  South  Australia. 

The  general  resources  of  the  colony  are  considerable.  The 
copper  mines  of  Kaprunda  are  supposed  to  be  immensely  rich,  and 
other  minerals  have  been  discovered  which  may  be  expected  to  form 
the  materials  of  future  prosperity.  The  climate  is  favorable  to  the 
growth  of  fruit,  even  of  the  tropical  kinds.  The  loquot,  the  guava, 
the  orange,  and  the  banana,  flourish  well,  but  slowly ;  while  the 
vine,  the  fig,  and  the  pomegranate  attain  a  suberb  maturity,  with 
English  fruits  of  every  description.  The  climate  of  the  plains  is 
altogether  different  from  that  of  the  hills;  while  the  latter  are 
white  with  snow,  the  former  are  warmed  by  a  glowing  sun.  On  the 
lowlands  the  forest-trees  of  Europe  have  a  stunted  growth,  but  in 
elevated  situations  they  thrive  to  perfection.  Gooseberries  and  cur- 
rants also  bear  only  on  the  hills.  Two  extremes  of  climate  pre- 
vail in  South  Australia.  In  the  early  part  of  the  year  the  rains 
fall  copiously,  the  whole  land  is  brightly  green,  and  vegetation 
thrives  in  luxuriant  richness ;  later,  the  sun  is  intensely  hot,  the 
earth  is  almost  herbless,  millions  of  grasshoppers  swarm  over  the 
ground,  but  the  air,  though  hot  and  calm,  is  breathed  without  diffi- 
culty. In  August  the  thermometer  ranges  about  59°,  and  rises 
till  January,  when  it  is  often  106^°,  descending  in  July  to  55°  at 
two  p.  M.,  the  hottest  hour  of  the  day.  This  climate  is  exceedingly 
salubrious ;  even  the  most  heated  winds  are  light  and  agreeable. 
It  is  of  course  subject  to  the  ordinary  maladies  common  to  most 
regions ;  but  there  are  no  dangerous  indigenous  complaints,  and  it 
is,  in  the  opinion  of  a  well-informed  traveller,  "one  of  the  health- 
iest countries  in  tbe  world;"  —  but  it  is  important  to  remember 
one  fact,  a  universal  knowledge  of  which  might  have  kept  death 
out  of  many  homes  —  that  the  climate  of  South  Australia  and  of 
Sydney  is  fatal  to  persons  of  consumptive  habits.     As  in  Neu 


140  AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN   DIEMEN's  LAND. 

South  Wales,  the  summer  of  Europe  is  winter  here,  and  the  wintcj 
summer. 

The  soil  of  this  colony  is  not  better  than  that  of  New  South 
Wales,  and  inferior  to  that  of  Van  Diemen's  Land,  yet  the  crops 
produced  in  it  are  finer  than  those  of  the  other  provinces.  The 
agriculturists  of  South  Australia,  less  dependent  on  pasture,  have 
applied  themselves  more  studiously  to  cultivation ;  and  the  most 
magnificent  specimen  of  wheat  ever  exhibited  in  our  markets  was 
grown  by  them.  The  province  contains  an  area  of  about  324,000 
square  miles,  or  in  round  numbers  207,000,000  acres.  The  settled 
territory,  however,  occupies  no  more  than  4000  miles,  or  7,000,000 
acres,  and  even  in  this  a  large  portion  of  countr}^,  at  present  desert, 
is  included.  About  500,000  acres  have  been  purchased  for  cultiva- 
tion, besides  large  tracts  for  sheep  and  cattle  pastures.  The  rate  of 
progress  in  the  colony  may  be  indicated  by  a  few  facts  :  —  In  1845, 
18,848  acres  of  wheat  were  sown;  in  1846,  26,135;  while  oats 
increased  7000  acres.  In  one  year  400  names  were  added  to  the 
list  of  landed  proprietors.  The  produce  of  the  colony,  therefore, 
exceeds  its  capability  of  consumption,  so  that,  while  in  1839 
the  price  of  flour  in  South  Australia  was  £120  a  ton,  it  is  now 
about  £12.  The  increase  of  stock  was  equally  rapid :  cattle  and 
sheep  stations  were  established  immediately  after  the  formation  of 
the  colony,  and  the  wild  nutritive  herbage  so  abundant  gave  nourish- 
ment in  1844  to  355,700  sheep ;  in  the  next  year  to  480,669 ;  and 
now  to  about  1,200,000,  with  an  increase  of  200,000  annually.  There 
are  in  the  colony  also  about  80,000  cattle  imported  principally  from 
New  South  Wales,  with  6000  horses,  and  about  25,000  pigs  and 
goats. 

Though  not  so  rapid  in  its  recent  development  as  New  South 
Wales,  South  Australia  prospered  better  during  the  early  years  of 
its  existence  as  an  English  colony.  The  encampment  at  Rapid  Bay, 
with  the  rude  gardens  at  first  laid  out,  was  soon  abandoned,  though 
some  traces  of  them  may  still  be  seen,  as  well  as  some  curious  ovens 
scooped  in  the  banks  by  the  first  settlers.  The  situation  was  deserted 
for  the  site  of  the  present  capital,  planned  on  an  extensive  scale. 
A  thousand  acres  were  surveyed  —  seven  hundred  on  the  south,  and 
three  hundred  on  the  north  of  the  river,  and  the  streets,  crossing  at 
right  angles,  are  from  one  to  two  chains  in  width.  No  convicts 
were  ever  allowed  to  be  imported.  All  religious  denominations  were 
encouraged  by  an  equality  of  rights.  The  town  lots  were  put  at 
£2,  10s.  an  acre,  the  country  at  £1  —  half  the  money  thus  raised 
being  added  to  the  colonial  fund,  and  half  applied  to  bring  out 
laborers  and  mechanics.     The  value  of  the  town  land  has  risen  to 


AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN'S   LAND.  141 

£1000  an  acre.  After  the  first,  new  settlers  continually  arrived; 
flocks  of  sheep  and  herds  of  cattle  were  brought  from  Van  Diemen'g 
Land,  and  every  artisan  skilled  in  house-building  was  engaged  at 
wages  varying  from  seven  to  ten  guineas  a  week.  Men'  earned  much 
money ;  but  uneducated  poverty,  suddenly  prosperous,  is  apt  to  run 
into  excess ;  and  sawyers  and  splitters,  earning  in  two  days  enough  to 
riot  on  all  the  rest  of  the  week,  drank  rum  and  beer  until  an  empty 
pocket  induced  them  to  resume  work.  Bullock-drivers,  and  others 
of  their  class,  became  dainty,  and  drank  only  claret  and  champagne ; 
while  many,  who  in  their  own  country  wanted  the  necessaries  of 
life,  staked  £50  on  the  toss  of  a  halfpenny.  The  sale  of  liquor  was 
a  prosperous  trade.  One  publican  made  £10,000  in  three  years. 
While  this  factitious  prosperity  endured,  hardy  Bushmen  from  New 
South  AVales  came  down  to  Adelaide  with  their  flocks  and  herds  to 
sell,  cows  at  £40  each,  bullocks  £100  a  pair,  meat  at  2s.  a  pound, 
bread  at  half-a-crown  the  four  pound  loaf,  flour  at  £120,  and  pota- 
toes at  £30  a  ton.  Thus  things  stood  for  some  time  in  1839.  All 
was  done  on  a  large  scale.  Surveyors  marked  the  land  in  a  circle 
of  twenty-five  miles  into  lots,  which  were  bought  by  speculators, 
who  drew  clever  plans,  marked  Islington,  Kensington,  Brighton, 
Paynham,  and  Walkerville,  and  advertised  them  as  town  lots.  A 
mania  followed.  People  ran  deeply  into  speculation,  money  flowed 
like  water,  and  excitement  rose  to  a  spring  tide  of  excess.  As 
usual,  panic  trod  on  the  heels  of  this  pernicious  fever,  and  in  1840 
hundreds  of  laborers  crowded  the  streets  of  Adelaide,  begging  for 
employment  at  the  lowest  rate  of  wages.  The  colony  became  in- 
volved in  debt,  and  when  Governor  Grey  arrived  in  1841,  all  credit 
was  destroyed,  and  ruin  hung  over  the  settlers.  The  government 
expenditure  had  risen  to  £180,000.  In  two  years  an  honest  ad- 
ministration reduced  it  to  £30,000,  though  a  loan  was  efiected  from 
New  South  Wales,  and  public  works  were  commenced  to  prevent 
the  poor  from  starving. 

Farming  operations  had  not  been  vigorously  commenced;  but 
now,  when  the  mania  was  over,  and  wholesome  industry  revived, 
families  settled  in  the  bush,  lands  were  bought,  cleared,  and  fenced, 
put  under  cultivation,  and  covered  with  magnificent  crops.  Hedge- 
rows lined  the  roads,  cottages  dotted  the  fields,  stacks  and  ricks 
sprung  up,  reapers  and  sowers  multiplied,  the  plough  went  through 
the  furrow,  and  before  the  end  of  twelve  months  provisions  became 
abundant.  In  two  years  more  the  colony,  with  brightening  pros- 
pects, took  rank  with  the  other  Australian  settlements. 

The  seaport  lies  several  miles  from  the  town,  and  is  connected 
with  it  by  a  good  macadamized  road,  traversed  every  hour  by  pa» 


142  AUSTRALIA  AND   VAN  DIEMEN's    LAND. 

Benger  cars  —  (fares,  sixpence).  A  spacious  basin,  lined  with  wharfs, 
receives  the  shipping ;  and  along  the  highway  teams  of  oxen  are 
continually  moving,  carrying  British  manufactures  to  the  town,  or 
Australian  produce  to  the  port.  There  are  several  good  inns  on  the 
roadside,  with  ruddy-faced  bar-maids  —  everything,  indeed,  familiar 
to  the  English  eye,  except  the  landscape  and  the  people ;  for  the 
newly-arrived  emigrant  would  never  recognize  in  the  stalwart  fel- 
lows, well  mounted  and  clothed,  who  ride  to  and  fro  over  their  own 
farms,  the  thin  and  sickly  creatures  who  would  at  home  have  broken 
stones  in  the  yard  of  a  workhouse. 

Round  Adelaide  lie  three  principal  divisions  of  the  colony :  the 
north,  or  sheep,  cattle,  and  great  mineral  district ;  the  east,  famed 
for  agriculture  and  pasture ;  and  the  south,  combining  cultivation, 
rearing  of  cattle  and  sheep,  fishing  and  mining.  A  vast  quantity  of 
level  land,  covered  with  crops  of  rich  grass,  and  unencumbered  with 
trees,  affords  the  finest  pasture.  In  1843  lead  and  copper  were 
discovered,  and  now  gold  is  also  known  to  exist  in  many  parts  of 
the  colony.  The  dissovery  of  these  treasures,  instead  of  producing 
its  legitimate  effect,  caused  another  mania.  A  prospect  of  scarcity 
hung  over  the  colony.  A  noble  harvest  was  ready  to  bend  before 
the  sickle,  but  the  community  was  mad  with  the  rage  for  mining, 
while  the  winter  threatened  to  close  in  and  cut  off  the  promise  of 
land.  Enormous  sums  were  offered  for  reapers.  "  Gentlemen  and 
ladies  sallied  forth  with  sickles,  even  with  scissors,"  to  save  the  har- 
vest, and  the  military  and  }X)lice  were  called  out.  They  marched  in 
battalions,  and  attacked  the  standing  corn ;  great  exertions  were 
made  ;  many  granaries  were  filled  ;  but  over  hundreds  of  acres  of 
the  ripe  grain  fell  and  rotted  to  the  earth.  But  this  fever  was  of 
brief  duration,  and  we  now  witness  in  South  Australia  the  spectacle 
of  an  industrious  community  of  settlers  with  a  profitable  division  of 
labor  —  some  at  the  mines,  some  in  the  fields,  some  in  the  pastures, 
engaged  in  developing  to  their  own  advantage  the  resources  of  a 
wealthy  soil.  The  population  within  the  last  ten  years  has  risen 
from  10,115  to  38,666  —  or  286  per  cent.  An  increasing  com- 
merce is  carried  on  with  the  mother  country,  which  in  the  first  six 
months  of  1850  exported  to  its  young  offspring  as  many  yards  of 
cotton  cloth  as  to  the  whole  of  Denmark. 

Western  Australia^  at  the  Swan  river  settlement,  is  another 
English  colony.  It  is  situated  on  the  western  coast,  nearly  opposite 
New  South  Wales,  and  36  degrees  of  longitude  to  the  westward  of 
it.  The  place  was  discovered  in  1697  by  the  Dutchman  Vlaming, 
who  named  it  from  the  black  swans  found  floating  on  the  stream. 


AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN    DIEMEN'S    LAND.  143 


The  first  settlement  took  place  in  1830,  in  somewliiit  an  unusual 
manner.  A  few  private  individuals,  in  consideration  of  immense 
grants  of  land,  undertook  to  colonize  the  province,  on  condition  of 
restoring  the  grants  if  their  engagements  were  not  fulfilled  within 
a  given  time.  Great  difficulty  was  at  first  experienced,  but  Western 
Australia,  like  her  sister  colonies  on  the  same  mighty  island,  has 
struggled  through  her  difficulties,  and  promises  soon  to  prosper  well 
Beyoad  a  line  of  barren  country  bordering  the  sea  the  land  is  ver} 
fertile.  In  the  neighborhood  of  the  principal  settlements,  Perth 
and  Freemantle,  it  is  hilly  and  bare ;  but  most  of  the  poor  soil  is 
capable  of  improvement,  and  admirably  adapted  to  the  cultivatioD 
of  the  grape.  There  is  a  vine  in  the  government  garden  at  Perth, 
which,  planted  as  a  cutting,  sent  forth  shoots  sixteen  and  one  half 
feet  long  in  the  second  year,  and  yielded  more  than  four  hundred 
weight  of  fruit.  The  climate  of  this  productive  region  is  salubri- 
ous and  pleasant,  though  not,  as  some  writers  assert,  superior  to  that 
of  the  other  colonies.  The  rains  are  more  abundant  and  regular ; 
but  while  this  fertilizes  the  soil,  it  does  not  favorably  or  otherwise 
affect  the  atmosphere.  The  waters  on  the  coast  swarm  with  fish, 
and  whales  gambol  in  shoals  a  few  miles  from  the  shore.  Oil  is 
therefore  a  principal  article  of  export,  and  the  enterprising  Ameri- 
cans have  sometimes  engaged  as  many  as  three  hundred  ships  along 
these  distant  shores. 

Freemantle  is  a  port  town  at  the  mouth  of  the  Swan  river.  Two 
miles  up  is  Perth,  the  capital,  and,  seven  miles  further,  Guildford, 
where  the  rich  corn  lands  commence.  There  are  several  other  set- 
tlements, all  in  steady  and  vigorous,  if  not  rapid,  growth. 

In  1 838  two  British  vessels  sailed  to  colonize  Port  Essington,  on 
the  northern  coast,  where  one  or  two  attempts  had  already  been 
made  without  success.  The  situation  of  the  new  settlement  is  at 
the  utmost  point  of  North  Australia.  There  was  found,  to  the 
astonishment  of  our  countrymen,  a  community  of  Australian  Chris* 
tians,  with  churches  of  their  own,  which  had  already  elementary 
instruction  in  the  arts  of  civilization.  To  the  Dutch  belongs  the 
praise  of  thus  planting,  at  this  remote  point,  what  may  be  the  seeds 
of  a  great  change  in  the  condition  of  the  native  people.  We  have 
now  a  settlement  there  which,  like  the  others,  thrives  with  consider- 
able success.  There  is  a  splendid  harbor,  capable  of  sheltering  the 
largest  fleet.  The  soil  of  the  territory  —  by  some  described  as  very 
poor  —  is  in  reality  very  productive.  Industrious  settlers  could 
cultivate  with  much  success  crops  of  rice,  cotton,  and  indigo,  of  the 
finest  quality:   but  there  is   one  drawback  —  the  climate.     This, 


144  AUSTRALIA   AND    VAN    DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

though  not  in  itself  unhealthy,  is  unsuited  to  the  European  consti- 
tution ;  though  it  is  believed  that  when  the  seasons,  atmospheric 
changes,  and  other  peculiarities  of  the  place  are  thoroughly  under- 
stood, temperance  vrill  destroy  the  virulence  of  the  ground  fever. 
Abundance  of  fresh  water  exists,  and  already,  from  the  little  begin- 
nings described,  this  settlement  develops  towards  prosperity. 

Among  the  continental  nations  it  is  believed  to  have  been  estab- 
lished with  purely  political  views.  The  French  especially  describe 
it  as  the  opening  of  a  port  to  the  south  of  the  Indian  Archipelago, 
near  the  Dutch  possessions,  to  counteract  the  influence  of  Holland 
in  those  seas.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  certain  that  the  Malay 
trade  is  expected  to  be  attracted  thither,  and  that  already  many  a 
fleet  of  Indian  prahus,  laden  with  tea,  sugar,  salt  fish,  and  other 
commodities,  come  to  bargain  for  British  cottons.  As  at  our  new 
settlement  of  Labuan,  many  opportunities  of  profit  occur  at  Port 
Essington  without  efiect,  from  the  absence  of  European  merchants 
to  take  advantage  of  them.  At  either  place  an  enterprising  trader, 
with  £2000  or  £3000  at  his  command,  could  speedily  realize  a  for- 
tune by  trading  with  the  Malays.  From  an  early  date  the  rude 
vessels  of  the  Indian  islanders  have  visited  this  coast  in  search  of 
seaslugs  for  the  Chinese  market.  They  would  gladly  collect  for  Port 
Essington  the  costly  products  of  their  islands,  and  barter  them  for 
cottons  and  utensils  of  rude  earthenware.  An  account  of  their  an- 
cient traffic  carried  on  between  the  Indian  islands  and  the  northern 
coast  of  Australia  would  afford  a  most  original  picture  of  human 
industry,  but  we  are  compelled  to  forego  it,  and  pass  to  the  conclud- 
ing portion  of  our  subject. 

Outlying  the  southern  coast  of  Australia,  as  Ceylon  outlies  the 
Indian  continent.  Van  Diemen^s  Land  appears,  separated  from  the 
mainland  by  a  broad  channel,  known  as  Bass'  Straits.  Numerous 
islands  are  sprinkled  over  these  mid-lying  waters  —  some  inhabited, 
others  so  surrounded  by  reefs,  and  so  beaten  by  surges  in  eternal 
commotion,  that  they  are  unapproachable.  The  most  northern  point 
of  Van  Diemen's  Land  is  about  120  miles  distant  from  the  most 
southern  point  of  Australia.  The  country  is  equal  in  size  to  Ireland, 
more  mountainous  than  the  great  neighboring  region,  more  full  of 
variety,  and  graced  with  more  charms  of  scenery.  The  hills,  vary- 
ing in  elevation  from  4000  to  5000  feet,  do  not  run  in  unbroken 
ranges,  but  are  crossed  by  fine  valleys,  watered  by  many  beautiful 
Btrearas.  Limestone  abounds,  and  iron  and  coal  will  probably  be 
discovered  in  large  quantities.  Where  cultivation  has  commenced, 
the  soil  is  found  to  be  partly  a  rich  vegetable  mould,  partly  mixed 


AUSTRALIA   AND    TAN    DIEMEN's    LAND.  145 

with  sand  and  flint,  but  almost  everywhere  fertile.  The  coast  is 
diversified  —  here  projecting  in  promontories,  there  retiring  into 
bays,  with  many  commodious  harbors,  and  the  mouths  of  some  con- 
siderable streams.  The  Derwent,  on  whose  border  stands  Hobart 
Town,  on  the  south  of  the  island,  is  a  broad,  deep,  salt  water  stream, 
free  from  rock  or  shoal,  and  navigable  for  vessels  of  heavy  burthen. 
On  the  north,  the  Tamar  pours  into  Bass'  Straits,  with  Launceston 
near  its  mouth  —  a  convenient  port,  though  obstructed  by  a  bar. 
These  two  towns,  the  twin  capitals  of  the  colony,  are  situated  in  the 
midst  of  beautiful  scenery  —  the  one  under  the  shelter  of  Mount 
Wellington,  the  other  in  the  midst  of  a  gently  undulating  country, 
varied  with  woods  and  pasture  lands.  Their  progress  has  not  been 
regular,  the  southern  outstripping  the  northern  city  in  commerce 
and  industry,  though  Launceston  now  promises  to  attract  consider- 
able trade  to  the  Tamar  river. 

From  the  date  of  Tasman's  visit  to  Van  Diemen's  Land  (1642), 
no  European  vessel  sailed  thither  during  130  years.  In  1773,  Fur- 
neaux,  one  of  Cook's  captains,  coasted  along  the  eastern  shores,  and 
entered  Bass'  Straits,  to  ascertain  whether  the  territory  was  an 
island  or  a  part  of  Australia  Proper.  Stormy  weather  drove  him 
back,  and  the  discovery  was  left  to  Bass.  In  1777  the  great  navi- 
gator himself  visited  these  shores,  and  caii'ied  on  some  intercourse 
with  the  natives.  Years  later,  La  Perouse  is  supposed  to  have  come 
hither,  and  the  expedition  sent  out  in  search  of  him  explored  the 
coast  in  quest  of  some  memorial  that  might  throw  light  on  the  fate 
of  the  unfortunate  navigator.  In  1797  Bass'  Straits  were  first  nav- 
igated ;  and  Flinders,  who  accompanied  the  discovery  of  the  pas- 
sage, circulated  in  the  new  colony  at  Port  Jackson  the  idea  of 
forming  a  settlement  on  Van  Diemen's  Land.  The  plan  was  neg- 
lected until  1803.  The  French  then  evinced  an  inclination  to  secure 
the  prize,  and,  to  forestall  them,  a  small  party  of  soldiers  and  con- 
victs was  lodged  on  the  island.  A  site  was  chosen  near  Hobart  Town. 
The  usual  preliminaries  were  gone  through,  but  unhappily  the  Eu- 
ropeans and  the  natives  quarrelled.  Blood  was  shed  and  an  ill-will 
was  established  which  has  only  lately  ceased  to  rankle  in  the  breasts 
of  the  aborigines. 

The  early  years  of  the  colony  were  passed  in  the  ordinary  manner. 
Many  difficulties  arose,  and  several  conflicts  took  place  with  the 
natives ;  but  the  settlers  were  hardy,  their  number  increased,  the 
soil  was  fertile,  and  the  colony  prospered  well.  A  legislative  coun- 
cil managed  the  public  afiairs,  and  by  1831  the  excess  of  revenue 
over  the  expenditure  was  £20,000  ;  a  fair  standard  of  the  condition 
of  the  colony.  Next  year,  at  a  large  meeting,  it  was  determined  to 
10 


140  AUSTRALIA   AIH)  VAW  MICMEN'S   LAND. 

petition  both  houses  of  Parliament  for  a  representative  assembly ; 
a  privilege  which  was  not  granted  for  some  time.  Colonial  policy 
forms  one  of  the  most  difficult  and  important  of  the  statesman's 
studies ;  and  it  is  only  of  late  years,  with  the  experience  of  great 
misfortunes  before  our  eyes,  that  we  have  commenced  acting  on  tho 
principles  whose  universal  acceptance  can  alone  render  our  distant 
possessions  the  permanent  sources  of  prosperity. 

Van  Diemen's  Land  has  been  a  great  convict  colony.  In  1832 
there  were  11,040  male  criminals  on  the  island.  Of  these  921  were 
undergoing  severe  punishment  for  oflFences  committed  after  sentence. 
Two  hundred  and  forty  were  at  the  penal  settlement  of  Port  Arthur, 
on  a  barren  peninsula,  connected  with  the  main  by  a  narrow  neck 
of  land.  Across  this  runs  a  line  of  posts  guarded  by  savage  dogs 
and  some  soldiers,  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  culprits.  Neverthe- 
less some  do  evade  even  the  vigilance  of  the  brute  watchers ;  and 
we  have  heard  of  several  men,  who,  clothing  themselves  in  the  skins  of 
kangaroos,  and  imitating  the  motions  of  the  animal,  thus  contrived 
to  escape. 

For  a  long  period  the  abundance  of  convict  labor  was  an  evil, 
especially  as  men  were  draughted  into  the  farms  on  tickets  of  leave, 
to  perform  tasks  for  which  they  were  utterly  unfit.  A  free  settler 
once  received  the  allotment  of  a  convict  set  down  as  a  ploughman. 
"  Can  you  plough  ? "  he  inquired.  "  No."  The  man  was  a  weaver, 
but  his  master  employed  him  to  drive  a  cart.  The  first  day  he 
broke  the  vehicle  to  pieces;  the  next,  intrusted  with  another,  he 
snapped  the  pole ;  and  the  third  lost  it  in  a  swamp.  He  was  then 
directed  to  cut  down  a  large  tree  overshadowing  a  barn,  and  per- 
formed the  office  with  vigor,  letting  the  huge  tree  fall  directly 
across  the  building,  which  it  crushed  to  total  ruin !  But  where 
willingness  accompanies  this  ignorance,  the  case  is  not  so  bad.  In 
some  instances,  however,  the  convicts  refused  to  work  at  any  other 
but  their  proper  vocation ;  and  one  weaver,  who  was  ordered  to  root 
up  trees,  hewed  off  his  arm  with  an  axe  rather  than  comply.  Aa 
kousehold  servants,  they  answered  better,  though,  with  such  recom- 
mendations to  character,  the  colonists  could  little  be  expected  to 
trust  their  servitors.  One  gentleman  wrote  home  —  "  Even  in  our 
Bmall  menage  our  cook  has  committed  murder,  our  footman  burglary, 
and  the  housemaid  bigamy !  "  It  is  only  fair  to  qualify  this  extract 
by  quoting  a  remarkable  passage  which  follows  :  —  "  It  is  strange 
to  be  in  a  country  of  thieves  at  all,  but  still  stranger  to  be  there 
without  any  fear  of  having  your  pocket  picked.  Such  is  the  admir- 
able arrangement  of  the  present  government." 

Prom  various  causes  there  was  a  few  years  ago  a  vast  suj»erabun* 


AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN  DIEMEN's  LAND.  147 

dance  of  labor  in  Van  Piemen's  Land.  The  consequences  were 
very  disastrous,  but  an  influx  of  capital  now  promises  to  remedy 
these  evils.  The  resources  of  the  island  are  varied  and  extensive, 
and  it  will  be  long  before  its  population  increases  to  an  extent  com- 
mensurate with  its  natural  capabilities.  A  change  also  is  dawning 
over  the  spirit  of  our  colonial  policy,  which  cannot  be  without  effect 
on  the  welfare  of  our  Tasmanian  settlements.  All,  indeed,  that 
they  require  is  the  energy  of  man  prudently  directed ;  for  nature 
has  done  her  part  to  perfection.  The  island  being  nearly  the  antip- 
odes of  our  own  country,  the  seasons  are  almost  exactly  the  reverse 
of  ours.  The  cold  is,  however,  more  extreme,  both  from  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  southern  pole,  and  the  fact,  that  no  land  lies  between  the 
southern  coast  of  the  island  and  the  masses  of  eternal  ice  that  load 
the  sea  a  few  degrees  beyond.  A  clear  and  brilliant  atmosphere, 
dry,  pure,  and  elastic,  almost  invariably  prevails,  though  occasion- 
ally the  weather  is  fitful,  and  changes  from  heat  to  cold  within  the 
revolution  of  a  day.  In  the  western  districts  much  rain  falls,  on 
the  northern  less,  on  the  eastern  still  less,  and  on  the  southern  least 
of  all  —  not  averaging  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  wet  days  in  the  year. 
September,  October,  and  November  are  the  spring  months  ;  Decem- 
ber, January,  and  February  correspond  with  our  June,  July,  and 
August;  March,  April,  and  May  form  the  autumnal,  the  most 
agreeable  season ;  and  during  our  hot  season,  frost,  snow,  and  rain 
prevail  in  Van  Diemen's  Land.  The  shortest  day  (21st  of  June) 
is  eight  hours  and  forty-eight  minutes,  or  one  hour  and  four  minutes 
longer  than  the  shortest  day  in  England  (21st  December) ;  but  the 
longest  day  in  England  is  an  hour  and  twenty-two  minutes  longer 
than  with  them.  The  climate,  even  now  in  the  uncultivated  condi- 
tion of  the  country,  is  remarkably  salubrious.  In  comparison  even 
with  the  healthiest  parts  of  Europe  it  is  unusually  genial,  and  its 
salubrity  will  in  all  likelihood  increase  as  colonization  spreads  over 
the  unexplored  districts  of  the  island.  Fever  and  dysentery  some- 
times prevail ;  hooping-cough  was  introduced  among  the  female  con- 
victs, but  though  it  attacked  all  the  population,  not  one  fatal  case 
occurred ;  and  influenza,  common  at  times,  never  becomes  dangerous. 
The  only  affliction  most  severely  felt  is  insanity ;  but  it  has  been 
well  remarked  by  a  writer  on  the  subject,  that  this  can  be  traced  to 
the  excessive  use  of  ardent  spirits.  During  a  long  period  the 
amount  consumed  in  Van  DIemen's  Land  was  at  the  rate  of  five 
gallons  a  year  to  each  individual,  including  women  and  children. 

The  island  is  divided  into  two  counties  and  fifteen  districts.  The 
fertile  lands  are  distributed  over  the  whole,  in  alternation  with  rug- 
ged mountains  and  dense  woods.    Numerous  streams,  bordered  with 


148  AUSTRALIA   AND   VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND. 

rich  land,  intersect  its  surface,  fed  from  perpetual  springs,  as  well 
as  by  the  snows  which,  during  many  months  in  the  year,  crown  the 
loftier  peaks.  Hobart-Town  district  is  the  most  important,  but,  like 
that  of  Sydney,  not  as  the  most  fertile  and  extensive,  but  as  con- 
taining the  metropolis  of  the  island.  It  contains  about  250,000 
acres,  and  the  cultivated  soil  yielded  in  1829  an  average  return  of 
fifteen  bushels  of  wheat,  twenty  of  barley,  twenty-five  of  oats, 
twenty  of  peas,  twenty  of  beans,  three  tons  and  a  half  of  potatoes, 
or  seven  tons  of  turnips  an  acre.  Since  then  its  productiveness  has 
greatly  increased.  The  produce  of  wheat  is  nearly  thirty  bushels 
an  acre,  and  of  other  grain  in  similar  proportion  —  an  example  of 
the  efiect  of  careful  husbandry.  A  brisk  trade  is  carried  on  at 
Hobart-Town,  where  a  motley  population  is  now  continually  on  the 
increase.  Between  1839  and  1847  it  rose  from  44,121  to  70,164, 
or  59  per  cent.  Scots  with  Highland  kilts  and  claymores,  Irish 
peasants  with  blue  jackets  and  trousers.  Frenchmen,  Germans, 
Americans,  Chinese,  Malays,  Lascars,  black  aborigines,  Africans, 
and  elegantly  tattooed  New  Zealand ers,  jostle  in  the  streets, 
and  crowd  about  the  stores.  At  these  depots  are  sold  all  imagin- 
able articles  of  use,  to  which  public  attention  is  attracted  by 
advertisements  in  the  local  paper.  A  specimen  of  these  may  be 
amusing :  —  "At  the  store  of  the  undersigned —  For  sale  —  Cart- 
harness  and  cayenne  pepper,  drill  trousers,  crockery  ware,  one  lady's 
side-saddle,  one  very  strong  dray,  gold  and  white  cambric,  four  cir- 
cular saws,  ladies'  stays,  starch,  blue  and  soap,  Leghorn  hats,  shot, 
mustard,  pattens,  black  stuff  and  bombazines,  nails  and  iron  pots." 
Prices  in  Hobart-Town  are  not  remarkably  low. 

The  produce  of  the  soil  is  varied.  Of  timber  fit  for  shipwrights, 
builders,  and  cabinet-makers,  there  are  gum,  stringy  bark,  white 
and  yellow  thorn  pine,  and  sassafras ;  black  and  silver  wattle,  dark 
and  pale  lightwood,  pencil  cedar,  Adventure-Bay  pine  (a  peculiar 
species),  cotton  tree,  musk,  silver  wood,  myrtle,  forest  and  swamp 
oak,  plum  tree,  yellow  wood,  lignum  vitse,  red  and  white  honey- 
suckle, peppermint  wood,  pink  wood,  and  cherry  tree.  No  native 
trees  bearing  edible  fruit  have  been  found.  The  peppermint  tree 
affords  an  oil  eflSeacious  in  cholera  ;  a  kind  of  grape  that  grows  near 
Maquarrie  Harbor,  on  the  west,  yields  a  juice  equal  to  that  of  the 
lime  for  scurvy ;  the  leaves  of  the  tea  plant  are  not  much  inferior 
to  those  of  China  ;  and  the  bark  of  the  wattle  is  useful  for  tanning. 
European  fruits,  however,  supply  the  absence  of  any  indigenous 
species.  The  grape,  the  apple,  the  peach,  the  cherry,  the  apricot, 
the  nectarine,  the  green  gage,  the  pear,  the  raspberry,  the  mulberry, 
the  gooseberry,  the  currant,  the  strawberry,  the  quinoe,  the  walnut. 


AUSTRALIA  AND  VAN   DIEMEN'S   LAND.  149 

the  chestnut,  thrive  well,  some  requiring  care,  others  none.  Many 
beautiful  flowers,  finely  scented,  have  been  discovered,  and  many 
others  have  been  introduced. 

All  kinds  of  grain  cultivated  in  these  islands  will  flourish  in  Yan 
Diemen's  Land.  Potatoes  of  the  first  quality  are  produced,  though 
not  so  plentifully  as  in  England ;  mangel-wurzel  and  turnips  thiive 
well,  with  clover,  tares,  lucern,  sainfoin,  sweet-scented  vernal,  and 
indeed  most  of  the  English  grasses.  Sheep  fatten  well  on  the  native 
kangaroo  grass.  Hemp,  flax,  and  tobacco  are  also  produced,  with 
peas,  beans,  cabbage,  broccoli,  cauliflowers,  spinach,  carrots,  parsnips, 
asparagus,  beet-root,  artichokes,  lettuces,  cucumbers,  celery,  radishes, 
onions,  leeks,  and  shalots.  With  this  abundance  of  vegetable  prod- 
uce, capable  of  still  further  development,  the  island  will  be  able  at 
all  times  to  support  whatever  population  may  spring  up  to  crowd  its 
commercial  cities  and  cultivate  its  rural  lands. 

Horses,  asses,  and  mules,  black  cattle,  sheep,  pigs,  poultry,  flour- 
ish as  well  as  in  New  South  Wales.  The  native  zoology,  as  in  that 
province,  consists  of  the  kangaroo,  in  five  species  —  from  the  forest 
kangaroo,  standing  five  feet  high,  and  clearing  fifteen  feet  at  a  bound, 
to  the  kangaroo  mouse,  considerably  smaller  than  a  rabbit.  The 
flesh  of  these  animals  is  much  esteemed.  There  are  numerous  va- 
rieties of  the  opossum ;  and  there  is  an  animal  between  a  tiger  and  a 
hyena,  very  destructive  to  the  flocks.  The  "devil"  is  another  car- 
nivorous beast,  shaped  like  an  otter,  which  attacks  the  sheepfolds  at 
night.  Porcupines,  wild  cats,  and  weasels,  with  bandicoot  rabbits 
and  rats,  exist ;  but  not  in  great  numbers.  The  ornithology  of  the 
island  is  also  in  some  respects  similar  to  that  of  Australia,  but  be- 
longs to  a  higher  order.  The  emu,  found  on  both  islands,  is  the 
largest  bird  known  in  those  regions,  weighmg  sometimes  as  much  as 
a  hundred  pounds.  Around  the  coast,  during  the  breeding  season, 
great  numbers  of  whales  resort,  and  the  fishery  is  valuable  and  pro- 
ductive, oil  forming  a  considerable  article  of  export. 

As  of  all  the  other  British  settlements  formed  in  Australia,  we 
may  say  of  Van  Diemen's  Land  that  it  is  still  in  the  infancy  of  it« 
3xistence.  Large  tracts  remain  unexplored,  the  capabilities  of  the 
soil  have  never  been  completely  tested,  and  the  universal  wealth  of 
the  country  is  scarcely  at  all  known.  With  every  year  we  may 
look  for  an  increasing  prosperity  ;  and  if  no  speculating  manias  oc- 
cur again  to  convulse  and  derange  its  system  of  industry,  the  colony 
may  one  day  rank  among  the  foremost  of  our  dependencies,  as  a 
brother  in  a  great  union  of  which  each  member  contributes  to  the 
welfare  of  the  rest.  With  a  climate  of  the  finest  kind,  with  a  rich 
soil,  and  every  facility  for  the  construction  of  a  railway  from  Laun- 


150 


AUSTRALIA    AND    VAN    DIEMEN'S    LAND. 


cestofi  to  Hobart-Town,  its  great  distance  from  England  should  be 
no  objection  in  tbe  eyes  of  the  emigrant.  The  sea  once  crossed, 
what  matter  whether  three  or  thirteen  thousand  miles  of  water  roll 
between  the  new  home  and  the  old  ?  Steam  will  soon  rivet  the  links 
of  intercourse  between  the  British  islands  and  Australia ;  and  a 
monthly  Indian  mail  arriving  with  intelligence  from  the  remote 
south,  the  difference  of  a  few  days  will  be  all  in  the  communication 
between  this  country  and  any  of  her  transmarine  dependencies. 


THE    FAIRY    CUP. 


Many  years  ago,  when  the  people  on  the  earth  were  free,  and  it 
took  less  to  make  a  prince  or  a  princess  than  it  does  at  the  present 
day ;  when  people  were  rich  upon  a  little,  and  everything  was  right- 
fully their  own  that  they  could  catch,  either  in  the  wild  woods  or 
in  the  silver  stream ;  when  a  king  was  the  positive  representative 
and  head  of  the  people,  and  so  independent  as  to  care  very  little 
about  anybody,  and  when  plenty  made  governing  easy ;  when  no 
man  had  to  pine  after  the  possession  of  house  or  land,  if  he  hap- 
pened to  be  strong  enough  to  kick  the  envied  possessor  out,  — 
who,  acknowledging  might  to  be  right,  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  wended  his  way  to  pastures  new,  or  sought  one  weaker  than 
himself,  and  served  him  in  like  manner  as  he  had  been  served  by 
his  stronger  neighbor;  when  knocking  out  a  man's  brains  was 
thought  rather  a  spirited  thing,  and  the  murderer  was  rewarded 
accordingly,  by  being  called  by  anything  but  his  real  title. 

Oh  !  happy  "  many  years  ago,"  called  by  us  the  Golden  Age, 
for  no  other  reason  than  for  the  great  scarcity  of  that  metal  which, 
in  its  abundance,  with  strange  anomaly,  has  only  produced  this 
Iron  Age,  which  appears  every  day  to  get  more  rusty. 

Oh !  that  now  was  "  a  good  while  ago,"  when  liomance  walked 
with  stately  step  and  a  positive  suit  of  tin,  through  the  wild  woods 
and  rocky  passes,  and  you  had  a  chance,  if  you  could  knock  hard, 
of  striking  out  some  spark,  and  taking  possession  without  question 
of  his  air-built  castle.  Oh,  happy  times,  when  you  never  went  to 
law,  —  that  not  being  invented,  —  but  to  loggerheads,  which  is 
much  the  same  thing,  only  leaving  more  for  the  combatants ! 

In  those  days  —  when  all  the  world  lived  by  what  we  call,  in  the 
refinement  of  this  age,  robbery,  merely  because  now  everything 
seems,  in  the  most  unaccountable  manner,  to  be  claimed  by  somo- 
body  —  a  man  might  ride  through  the  luxuriant  woods  and  lovely 

(151) 


152  THE    FAIRY    CUP. 


sloping  glades,  occasionally  meeting  with  a  fat  buck  that  he  could 
shoot  down  at  his  mighty  will  and  pleasure,  and  dine  thereon  with- 
out asking  my  lord  or  my  lady,  then  calmly  take  a  nap  under  the 
spreading  branches  of  some  noble  tree,  upon  a  bed  of  most  unex- 
ceptionable moss,  and  all  without  anything  to  pay  for  trespassing. 

Even  the  authors  and  poets  of  that  day  were  to  be  envied,  for 
they  had  the  power  of  publishing  their  own  works,  and  getting  a 
very  good  living  by  it.  One  of  these  envied  beings  was  indeed  a 
whole  circulating  library  in  himself;  for,  whenever  any  impatient 
damsel  or  expectant  coterie  languished  for  some  particular  story, 
they  were  obliged  to  send  for  the  author,  who  only  yielded  his 
treasures  by  word  of  mouth.  They  were  also  the  great  origin  of 
our  present  newspapers,  for  through  them  alone,  collecting  as  they 
did  all  the  news  in  their  wanderings,  could  be  obtained  the  chit- 
chat and  murders  of  the  province ;  and,  considering  their  opportu- 
nities, they  did  not  lie  more  than  their  printed  representatives  of 
the  present  day,  which  is  certainly  a  chalk  in  their  favor.  All  this 
ability  was  rewarded  with  the  warmest  corner,  the  deepest  flagon, 
and  the  finest  cut  from  the  chine.  This  is  not  often  the  case  with 
the  poets  of  this  miserable  age,  who  foolishly  print  their  effusions, 
and  stay  at  home  in  their  garrets,  very  often  without  any  dinner 
at  all. 

Pleasant  times,  indeed,  were  they  for  all  erring  humanity. 
Young  gentlemen  of  expensive  habits,  and  irregularity  in  their 
cash  payments,  instead  of  being  summoned  themselves,  summoned 
the  devil,  who  immediately  put  in  an  appearance,  took  a  little 
I.  0.  U  of  them,  to  be  claimed  at  some  indefinite  period ;  and  lo  ! 
they  were  again  freer  to  run  out  the  reel  of  their  folly  to  the  end. 

Now,  young  gentlemen  go  to  the  devil  in  a  very  different  way  — 
certainly  in  one  less  romantic. 

Fairies,  of  a  kind  and  beneficent  nature,  took  under  their  partic- 
ular care  young  handsome  travellers,  who  did  not  travel  as  they 
do  in  the  present  day,  for  any  particular  house,  but  who  went  out 
to  seek  their  fortunes.  Rather  an  indefinite  term,  certainly ;  but  in 
that  golden  time  there  were  a  great  many  waifs  and  strays,  almost 
crying  "Come  take  me"  upon  every  highway.  So  that  a  man, 
blessed  with  a  sharp  wit  and  a  sharp  sword,  — for  a  little  fighting 
was  often  necessary,  —  might  tumble,  as  it  were,  headlong  into 
luck,  and  find  himself  the  husband  of  some  princess,  and  the 
owner  of  a  very  respectable  rubble  and  limestone. 

Gold,  then,  was  pointed  out  by  amiable  gnomes,  who  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  it  themselves^  enriching  some  fortunate  mor- 
tal who  had  lost  his  way  and  his  inheritance.     Kings  and  bank 


THE    FAIRY    CUP.  1«J5 


clerks  are  the  only  privileged  ones  now  who  are  allowed  to  gloat 
upon  so  much  collected  treasure. 

In  fine,  then  there  was  enough  for  everybody  and  to  spare. 
Those  kind  beings  have  all  gone  into  some  more  refined  sphere 
than  this  matter-of-fact  world.  Railroads  and  bricks  and  mortar 
have  desecrated  their  little  shady  nooks  and  gold-burthened  cav- 
erns, and  all  that  we  have  got  left  is  the  sweet  remembrance  of 
their  freaks  and  goodness  "  Once  upon  a  time." 

Therefore  I  love  to  rake  up  the  old  stories  of  my  memory,  and 
introduce  to  my  readers  some  few  of  those  quaint  mortals,  —  for, 
that  they  did  exist,  and  do  exist  now,  there  can  be  little  doubt,  or 
how  otherwise  could  their  private  histories  and  actions  have  been 
chronicled  in  all  our  early  works,  or  been  the  constant  theme  of 
the  ancients,  who  are  our  authority  in  all  learning  and  accomplish- 
ments, even  in  the  present  dayV  If  we  doubt  their  Nips,  and 
gnomes,  and  fairies,  why  do  we  believe  their  Heros  and  Leanders, 
their  Antonys,  their  Oleopatras,  and  a  host  of  other  historical 
beings  ? 

I  would  not,  for  the  world,  tear  out  the  early  leaves  from  my 
book  of  life,  for  I  have  to  turn  to  them  too  often  to  solace  me  for 
the  many  after  pages  of  sorrow  and  gloom  that  fate  has  chronicled 
with  her  changeful  pen.  So,  reader,  you  must  let  me  lead  you 
back  into  fairy  land,  and  I  will  show  you  pictures  both  pleasing 
and  instructive.  In  my  experience  I  have  found  that  it  would  be 
as  well  if  we  could  be  children  oftener  than  we  are. 

Without  further  lament  over  what  has  gone  by,  fix  your  eyes 
upon  my  erratic  page  and  see  what  is  to  come. 

THE   FAIRY    CUP. 

'*  Oncre  upon  a  time  "  there  dwelt  in  the  soft  green  shadows  of  a 
primeval  wood  a  happy  woodman  named  Hubert,  with  his  little 
wife  and  russet-cheeked  children.  It  was  the  sweetest  little  nest 
the  eye  could  rest  on.  Its  peaked,  thatched  roof  was  mossy  and 
green  from  the  early  dews  shed  by  the  overhanging  gigantic  trees 
that  stretched  their  branches  over  its  lowly  roof  to  shelter  it  from 
the  storm,  as  the  mother-bird  spreads  her  wings  over  her  callow 
brood.  Its  little  twinkling  casement  caught  the  first  rays  of  the 
morning  sun,  and  sparkled  in  the  most  cheering  manner,  whilst 
the  curls  of  the  graceful  smoke  rolled  playfully  amidst  the  gnarled 
branches,  and  lost  itself  amidst  abundant  foliage,  startling  the 
young  birds  in  their  airy  nests  with  its  sweet  odor.  Oh  !  it  was  a 
happy-looking  spot.     It  seemed  the  very  dwelling  of  Peace,  whe 


154  THE   FAIRY    CUP. 


flies  from  the  palace  and  the  turmoiling  crowd,  to  find  only  in  th* 
simplicity  of  Nature  a  fitting  resting-place  for  her  pure  spirit. 

And  here  she  dwelt  indeed ;  simple  love  pointed  out  the  spot ; 
peace  sat  upon  their  threshold,  whilst  contentment  gave  a  zest  tc 
all  their  enjoyments.  There  could  be  no  solitude  there  ;  for  the 
ringing  laugh  of  childhood  disturbed  the  echoes  in  the  deep  vistas 
of  the  forest,  and  the  birds  answered  from  the  high  branches  to  the 
happy  notes  of  the  gambolers  beneath  them. 

The  mother  watched  them  in  their  play  as  she  plied  her  wheel, 
whilst  a  happy  smile  played  in  her  eyes  with  a  brightness  so  full  of 
love  and  fondness,  that  the  last  ray  of  the  sinking  sun  retired  in 
dudgeon  at  being  surpassed  by  the  holy  light. 

The  night  stalked  forth  over  hill  and  valley,  stretching  his  long 
and  shadowy  arms  afar  and  near,  as  he  gathered  up  the  daylight 
into  his  dark  wallet,  when  Hubert  turned  his  weary  footsteps  to 
the  home  that  has  been  pictured.  He  plodded  through  the  tangled 
path  with  a  heavy  tread,  but  still  he  whistled  out  a  blithesome  air, 
for  his  heart  was  on  the  path  before  him,  and  he  thought  of  nothing 
between  himself  and  his  home. 

But  there  was  something  in  his  path  that,  envying  his  sturdy 
step  and  lightsome  heart,  cowered  with  spite  amidst  the  underwood, 
and  threw  forth  before  him  the  twiny,  thorny  brambles  to  delay  him 
on  his  way.  It  was  one  of  the  €vil  fairies  of  the  wood  —  a  spirit 
that  gathered  the  deadly  bright  berries  from  the  branch,  and  mized 
.them  in  a  huge  stone  caldron  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the  rocky 
ravine,  always  dogging  the  footsteps  of  mortals  to  persuade  them, 
with  fascinating  wiles,  to  drink  from  her  fairy  cup,  which  quickly 
destroyed  the  charm  of  all  beside  in  nature ;  for  so  strong  was  the 
draught  that  it  made  the  dark  yawning  precipice  appear  to  the 
bewildered  sight  of  the  drinker  a  lurid  field  of  sweet-scented  flowers 
and  bright  rippling  brooks,  until,  in  his  insanity,  the  poor  deluded 
victim  destroyed  himself  and  all  he  loved,  and  found  too  late  that 
he  had  sold  himself  as  slave  to  his  wily  and  deceitful  foe. 

At  a  sudden  turn  of  his  path  he  started,  on  beholding  at  the 
foot  of  a  gnarled  tree,  a  beautiful  female  figure,  with  a  dress  of 
filmy  texture,  girded  with  a  bright  cincture  round  her  yielding 
waist.  Her  beautiful  limbs  appearing  and  disappearing  under  the 
transparent  folds  like  those  of  a  swimmer  who  disports  himself 
amidst  the  green  waves  of  the  sea.  She  arose  with  downcast  looks 
as  he  timidly  approached.  Her  bright  eyes  fell  as  with  timid  mod- 
esty, and  the  deep  roseate  tinge  of  her  enamelled  cheek  grew 
deeper  under  his  ardent  gaze. 

Hubert  doflfed  his  cap,  as  this  beautiful  being  rose  from  her 


THE    FAIRY    CUP.  155 


recumbent  posture,  but  stood  irresolute  and  embarrassed  by  the 
awe-inspiring  charms  of  the  creature  before  him.  At  last,  after 
gazing  for  a  moment  more,  he  summoned  up  his  courage  and  ad- 
dressed her.  "  Lady,"  said  he,  "fear  me  not  —  I  will  not  harm 
you ;  if  you  have  wandered  from  your  home,  or  missed  your  friends 
in  the  intricacies  of  the  forest,  you  can  have  no  surer  guide  than 
your  humble  servant." 

A  smile  flitted  like  a  bright  light  across  the  fair  face  of  the  fairy, 
her  lips  unclosed,  and  forth  issued  a  voice  as  melodious  and  enchant- 
ing as  the  softest  flute. 

"  Child  of  earth,"  said  she,  "  these  woods  are  my  home.  I  am 
the  spirit  of  perfect  happiness.  Behold  my  magic  cup !  "  As  she 
spoke,  she  held  up  to  his  view  a  small  cup  of  rare  workmanship, 
formed  in  the  fashion  of  the  wild  blue-bell.  It  sparkled  with  a 
sapphire-like  lustre  at  every  movement,  as  drops  of  liquor  fell  like 
diamonds  from  its  brim.  "  This  cup,"  continued  she,  "  was  given 
me  by  the  fairy  Hope,  who  never  looks  behind  her,  that  past  sor- 
rows and  misfortune  may  not  cast  a  shadow  on  the  future.  With- 
out Hope,  mortals  would  all  wither  and  die  in  the  black  valley  of 
despair ;  she  was  sent  to  encourage  them  as  a  guiding-star  through 
the  troubles  of  the  world,  that  they  might  reach  the  abode  of  per- 
fect happiness.  Few  mortals  meet  with  me  while  living.  I  appear 
occasionally,  and  let  them  drink  of  my  cup,  when  I  think  they 
deserve  from  their  goodness  to  participate  in  the  godlike  draught. 
You  have  I  chosen  to  be  one  of  the  favored.  Drink,  then,  and  you 
shall  become  greater  than  a  king ;  your  burthen  shall  be  as  down 
upon  your  back,  and  your  feet  shall  lose  their  weariness ;  your  heart 
shall  bound  with  the  full  pulse  of  felicity,  and  you  shall  be  borne 
on  your  way  upOn  wings  stronger  than  those  of  the  mighty  eagle." 

Hubert  hesitated  as  the  bright  being  held  the  cup  still  nearer  to 
his  grasp.  His  extended  hand  appeared  as  ready  to  clutch  it,  but 
doubts  and  fear  withheld  him  from  grasping  its  slender  stem.  An- 
other moment  of  indecision,  and  it  was  pressed  within  his  palm ! 

"  Drink,  mortal !  "  said  she,  "  and  become  almost  as  immortal  as 
myself  It  will  incase  your  heart  with  armor  impervious  to  the 
shafts  of  care,  and  raise  your  crest  to  the  bearing  of  the  fearless 
warrior.  You  shall  be  no  longer  serf  and  vassal,  but  the  lord  of 
all  that  surrounds  you  ;  seeing  through  its  influence  the  hidden 
treasures  of  the  world  that  now  unheeded  sparkle  beneath  your 
feet,  where  the  gnomes,  who  hate  mankind,  have  hidden  it  from 
the  sight  of  all  but  those  who  have  courage  to  face  the  dangers  of 
the  fairy  world."  The  fiends  of  avarice  and  ambition  seized  upon 
the  heart  of  the  simple  woodman.     To  be  rich  !   to  be  great !   per* 


156  THE    FAIRY    CUP. 


feet  happiness !  What  golden  promises !  The  soft,  bewitching  voice 
of  the  fairy  still  whispered  with  silvery  tones  in  his  ear  the  fasci- 
nating words.  Foolish  mortal !  was  he  not  already  richer  than  a 
king,  in  the  love  of  his  wife  and  children  ?  Was  he  not  great,  in 
his  honest  simplicity,  and  had  he  not  enjoyed  perfect  happiness 
beneath  the  roof  of  his  lowl}''  sequestered  cot  ? 

He  looked  for  one  moment  upon  the  lustrous  eyes  of  the  being 
before  him,  and,  as  if  fascinated,  drained  the  magic  goblet  at  9 
draught. 

What  gushes  of  enrapturing  pleasure  rushed  through  his  bound 
ing  veins  !  His  stalwart  frame  seemed  to  dilate  as  he  yielded  tht 
cup  to  the  ready  hand  of  his  tempter. 

The  vistaed  trees  melted,  as  it  were,  from  their  rugged  forms  into 
towering  pillars  of  shining  marble  of  the  most  dazzling  whiteness  • 
the  gTeensward  rolled  like  waves  from  beneath  his  feet,  and  he  stood, 
with  the  mysterious  being  by  his  side,  upon  a  flight  of  porphyry 
steps  that  led  to  a  palace  of  interminable  terraces,  towering  in  their 
magnificence  even  to  the  blue  arch  of  the  heavens. 

The  load  fell  from  his  shoulders,  and  was  seen  no  more.  The 
tremor  left  his  heart  as  he  gazed  upon  the  wonders  around  him,  and 
he  felt  as  if  he  had  wings  that  would  carry  him  to  the  topmost 
height  of  that  wondrous  palace.  Vases  tempted  him  on  either 
hand,  laden  with  the  treasures  of  the  mine,  whilst  jewels  invaluable 
were  scattered  at  his  feet  in  numbers  vying  with  the  pebbles  on  the 
sea-shore.  Music,  soft  and  delicious,  wrapped  his  senses  in  a  delicious 
delirium,  ever  and  anon  swelling  into  a  lively  measure,  prompting 
him  to  bound  forward  in  a  wild  and  rapid  dance.  As  he  progressed 
through  the  magnificent  halls,  the  attendant  fairy  kept  plying  him 
with  draughts  from  her  bewildering  goblet  of  sapphire,  until  he, 
grown  bolder  at  every  draught,  tore  it  from  her  grasp,  and  quaff"ed 
with  a  maddening  delight  the  precious  liquid ;  when  suddenly  the 
palace  and  its  wonders  quivered  before  his  sight  like  motes  in  the 
sunbeam,  and,  gradually  melting  into  s^Dlendid  rainbow  tints,  sunk 
into  a  black  and  sudden  darkness  —  the  rest  was  all  oblivion. 

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The  voice  of  lament  rang  through  the  forest  as  Hubert's  wife 
bent  over  his  unconscious  form.  The  cry  of  children  arose  shrilly 
on  the  night  air,  and  awakened  him  to  a  half-dreamy  consciousness. 
A  stare  of  almost  idiocy  upon  his  pale  and  haggard  face,  as  he 
gazed  at  the  miserable  and  distracted  group  that  surrounded  him, 
made  their  fond  hearts  turn  cold. 

They  had  sought  for  hours  for  him  in  the  mazes  of  the  forest,  and 
at  last  discovered  him  apparently  dead  at  the  foot  of  an  aged  oak. 


THE    FAIRY   CUP.  157 


With  trembling  and  uncertain  foot  he  accompanied  them  to  his 
home,  muttering  strange  words  as  he  -went,  to  the  dismay  of  his 
fond  wife  and  children.  When  they  arrived  at  their  hitherto  peace- 
fid  home,  he  sank  powerless  upon  the  humble  pallet,  and  fell  into  a 
deep  slumber. 

The  next  morning  harsh  words,  for  the  first  time,  answered  to  his 
wife's  anxious  inquiries  as  to  what  had  been  the  cause  of  his  strange 
accident.  Without  ta>iting  the  morning  simple  meal,  he  shouldered 
his  axe,  and  wended  his  way  moodily  into  the  recesses  of  the  forest, 
leaving  a  deep  shadow  over  the  brightness  of  home.  As  he  disap- 
peared through  the  trees,  his  wife  pressed  her  little  ones  to  her 
breast  and  wept  aloud. 

Days  and  months,  weary  and  sad,  rolled  on,  and  the  noble  form 
of  the  woodman  became  a  wretched  ruin.  He  saw  his  once-loved 
cot  and  its  inhabitants  withering  daily  before  his  eyes,  yet  still  he 
sought  the  fascinating  being  who  gave  him  a  fleeting  heaven  for  a 
lasting  pain.  The  drooping  wretch  no  longer  raised  his  hand  to 
labor,  but  lingered  listlessly  through  the  glades  of  the  forest,  craving 
for  the  appearance  of  the  being  who  was  to  lead  him,  at  such  a  fear- 
ful cost,  to  lands  of  vision  and  madness. 

Morning,  with  her  rosy  fingers  and  balmy  breath,  opened  the 
wild  flowers  through  the  woods  and  valleys,  shooting  as  if  in  sport 
her  golden  arrows  througli  the  whispering  leaves,  startling  the  birds 
from  their  sleep  to  sing  their  early  matins. 

Night  gathered  up  the  dark  folds  of  her  robe,  and  retreated  ma- 
jestically before  the  coming  light,  leaving  her  sparkling  gems  of 
dew  trembling  upon  every  stem  and  flower. 

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With  downcast  look  and  melancholy  brow  came  the  young  mother. 
Her  eye  beheld  not  the  flowers  that  strewed  her  path,  and  her  ear 
was  deaf  to  the  early  songs  of  the  birds ;  tears  trembled  on  her 
eyelids,  and  fell  unconsciously  down  her  pale  cheek.  Her  lingering 
step  ceased  as  she  approached  a  rustic  basin,  formed  of  rude  blocks 
of  stone,  into  which  the  water  had  been  turned  from  some  neigh- 
boring springs. 

As  she  raised  the  vessel  which  she  carried  in  her  hands  to  im- 
merge  it  in  the  sparkling  waters,  she  was  startled  by  seeing  them 
bubble  and  rise  until  they  leaped  over  their  stone  boundary  in 
copious  streams  to  her  feet.  Hardly  had  she  time  to  wonder  at  this 
strange  phenomenon,  when  she  beheld  a  dwarf  like  figure  rise  from 
the  midst.  He  was  dressed  in  a  quaint  costume  and  looped-up  hat, 
which  was  dripping  with  moisture,  apparently  not  at  all  to  his  in- 
convenience, for  he  leaned  upon  the  edge  of  the  basin,  while  his 


158  THE    FAIRY    CUP. 


little  figure  C/Ontinued  still  half-submerged,  Avith  a  comfortable  and 
satisfied  look. 

As  she  continued  to  gaze  at  the  odd  object  before  her,  undeter- 
mined whether  to  stay  or  fly,  he  politely  raised  his  hat,  and  bade 
her  not  to  be  alarmed.  "  For  I  have  come  out,"  said  he,  "  this 
morning  on  purpose  to  meet  you,  and  to  try  and  remedy  the  sorrow 
which  is  devouring  you.  I  say  '  remedy,'  for  you  must  understand 
I  am  the  natural  universal  doctor.  In  fact,"  continued  he,  while 
a  sly  smile  passed  across  his  comic  little  face,  "  your  human  doctors 
apply  to  me  upon  all  occasions ;  indeed,  without  me  they  could  not 
exist,  though  they  never  let  their  patients  know  it,  —  for,  if  they 
did,  they  would  all  — poor  deluded  wretches  !  — come  direct  to  me, 
and  ruin  the  whole  of  the  fraternity. 

"  I  have  more  power  than  any  sprite,  fairy,  or  gnome,  that  ex- 
ists ;  the  whole  earth  itself  is  under  my  control.  These  mighty 
trees  would  never  raise  their  towering  heads  without  me ;  no  flower 
would  bloom  at  their  rugged  feet,  nor  would  the  soft  mossy  carpet 
so  grateful  to  your  feet  live  for  a  moment,  if  I  did  not  sustain 
it  by  my  magic  aid.  I  am  ordained  to  yield  continual  good 
wherever  I  am  present.  I  creep  amidst  the  wild  flowers  and  bid 
them  bloom.  I  climb  the  snake-like  vine,  and  hang  it  with  the 
rich  clustering  grape,  and  all  the  fruits  of  the  earth  await  my  sum- 
mons to  burst  their  bonds  and  yield  their  treasures  to  the  human 
race. 

"  I  wander  into  other  lands,  and  bear  back  rich  argosies  laden 
with  jewels  and  gold  to  deck  the  brow  of  noble  beauty.  I  dash 
down  from  rocky  heights,  headlong,  to  fertilize  the  teeming  valleys. 
My  voice  is  heard  like  the  roaring  thunder,  and  anon  like  the-softest 
music  in  the  shady  solitudes,  as  I  whisper  on  my  way  through  the 
reeds  and  the  water-lilies.  Where  I  am  not,  all  must  droop  and 
die. 

"  I  have  watched  you  long,  when  you  sought  me  in  your  early 
days  of  happiness  and  love,  until  young  blossoms  like  yourself 
sprung  up  around  you,  and  paddled  with  their  tiny  feet  in  my  cool 
and  crystal  waters.  Then  your  song  was  of  the  merriest  measure ; 
but  now  the  echoes  mourn  in  silence  the  absence  of  your  melodious 
voice,  and  your  sighs  alone  break  the  stillness.  Your  pale  face  has 
been  reflected  in  these  waters,  until  I  felt  and  knew  that  some  blight 
had  fallen  upon  your  happiness,  which  as  yet  had  never  shrunk 
under  the  cankering  breath  of  care. 

"  A  little  bright  rill,  that  had  wandered  to  play  with  the  wild 
blossoms  in  this  wood,  returned  to  me,  and,  prattling  by  my  side, 
told  me  of  the  dreadful  delusion  under  which  your  hitherto  good 


THE   FAIRY    CUP.  159 


and  stalwart  husband  labored.  I  watched  him  as  he  came,  with 
dejected  look,  so  unlike  his  former  self,  to  lave  his  burning  brow  in 
mj  cooling  waters.  I  quickly  saw  what  fair}^  demon's  hand  had 
so  destroyed  the  goodly  form  and  noble  heart  of  my  poor  woodman. 
Here  was  the  shadow  that  fell  over  your  pure  brow,  drained  your 
young  heart,  and  silenced  the  song  that  made  this  no  longer  a  soli- 
tude. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  continued  he,  "  and  I  will  endeavor  to  save 
him.  If  you  can  persuade  him,  by  the  eloquence  of  your  love  and 
the  picture  of  the  ruin  that  day  by  day  encompasses  you  all,  to 
attend  strictly  to  my  warning,  I  will  rescue  him  from  the  overpow- 
ering spell  of  the  fascinating  demon  that  enthralls  him. 

"  I  will  give  him  a  talisman  so  powerful  that  the  scales  shall 
drop  from  his  eyes,  and  his  destroyer  appear  in  her  own  proper  hid- 
eous colors ;  when,  if  he  has  any  love  left  for  those  whose  sole 
dependence  is  on  him,  he  will  resolutely  baffle  all  the  attempts  made 
to  seduce  him  again  into  this  world  of  vicious  dreams  and  indo- 
lence." 

As  he  concluded,  he  sunk  beneath  the  waters.  The  young  wife 
stood  entranced,  with  hope  beating  in  her  heart,  and  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  bubbles  as  they  rose  to  the  surface,  doubting  almost 
whether  what  she  had  heard  was  not  a  delusion  of  her  distracted 
brain. 

Another  moment,  and  the  benevolent  sprite  again  appeared,  hold- 
ing in  his  hand  a  globe  containing  a  liquid  that  shone  like  a  pure 
diamond. 

"  Take  this,  and  let  your  husband  keep  it  with  him ;  and  when 
the  deluding  demon  approaches  him,  to  mystify  him  with  her  mach- 
inations, let  him  drink  from  the  small  aperture  of  this  globe,  and  he 
will  instantly  see  her  in  her  demoniac  form.  Let  him  persevere, 
and  she  will  fly  from  him,  and  you  and  he  will  be  saved  and  restored 
to  peace.     Farewell !  " 

As  she  clasped  the  bottle  with  eager  hand,  he  sank  amidst  a  thou- 
sand sparkling  bubbles,  and  she  was  alone.  Quickly  she  sped  through 
the  tangled  way,  for  her  feet  were  winged  by  love,  and  by  hope  that 
had  long  lain  drooping.  The  cottage  door  was  soon  reached,  where 
sat  the  pale  form  of  her  husband,  his  bloodshot  eyes  turned  lan- 
guidly towards  her  as  she  approached.  But  he  was  soon  roused 
from  his  listless  posture  by  seeing  the  excitement  of  her  manner, 
and  listening  to  her  strange  tale,  which  he  would  have  doubted,  had 
she  not  shown  him  in  triumph  the  bright  globe  given  her  by  the 
sprite  of  the  spring. 

Her  almost  childish  delight,  strange  to  say,  hardly  met  with  a 


160  THE   FAIRY    CUP. 


response  in  his  bosom,  for  the  charm  of  his  daily  enchantments  he 
seemed  to  feel  a  hesitation  to  relinquish ;  they  appeared  to  his  bewil- 
dered sense  all  that  was  worth  living  for. 

Her  heart  sunk  with  almost  a  death-like  pang,  but  she  bade  him 
drink  from  the  jewel-like  bottle.  A  deep  shudder  shook  his  attenu- 
ated frame  as  he  did  so.  One  moment,  and  his  pallid  features 
flushed  as  he  beheld,  for  the  first  time,  the  ruin  and  desolation  of 
his  home.  He  stood  an  abashed  and  guilty  man  before  his  loving 
wife  and  little  innocent  children. 

A^  -it.  -5^-  -it*  •U'  Al< 

■Tt*  "Tr  'T'C*  -T^  'TV  "7?* 

Hubert,  armed  with  good  resolves  and  his  stout  axe,  again  entered 
the  forest,  his  heart  palpitating  with  an  -Vscribable  feeling,  as  if 
in  doubt  of  the  power  of  the  talisman  to  1  him  from  the  fasci- 

nation of  his  deluder.  Hardly  had  the  stroke  of  his  axe  awakened 
the  echoes  of  the  forest,  when,  through  a  shady  vista,  he  saw  the 
light  form  of  the  fairy  tripping  over  the  greensward,  with  upraised 
cup  and  joyous  laugh,  as  she  recognized  him  at  his  labor.  Strange 
thrills  rushed  through  his  frame  as  she  approached  nearer  and 
nearer  :  strang-e  thou2;hts  hovered  in  his  mind  of  throwinor  his  wife's 
talisman  from  him,  and  once  more  clasping  that  tempting  cup  that 
shone  even  in  the  distance  like  a  bright  amethyst. 

But  a  shadow  fell  over  the  bright  form,  and  her  resplendent  eyes 
glared  with  a  fiendish  look,  as  it  approached  nearer  to  the  spot. 

He  seized  the  talisman,  and  drank  of  its  pure  and  bright  con- 
tents. On  the  instant,  the  forms  of  his  wife  and  children  encircled 
him  in  fond  union,  as  a  barrier  between  him  and  the  evil  spirit. 
Again  he  drank,  and,  as  he  did  so,  shuddered  with  horror  as  he 
beheld  a  lambent  flame  rise  from  the  hitherto  craved  goblet  of  the 
fiend. 

The  beautiful  locks,  which  played  round  the  brow  of  the  falsa 
one,  twined  into  writhing  snakes,  and  bright  burning  scales  rose 
upon  her  fair  bosom.  Her  face  became  distorted  with  horrible  pas- 
sion. Hubert  could  behold  no  more ;  he  placed  his  hands  across  his 
eyes  to  shut  out  the  fiend,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  alone. 

-^  »\A,  ^  *5i-  -it*  -Jkt- 

•7V*  -TV*  "^  •TV-  vf  "rc- 

That  night,  as  the  moon  threw  her  silver  tribute  on  the  rippling 
waters  of  the  lowly  well,  Hubert  stood  with  his  arms  around  the 
waist  of  his  happy  wife.  They  were  silent  and  expectant.  They 
both  hoped  to  see  the  benevolent  being,  who  had  given  them  a  pow- 
erful talisman,  to  free  them  from  the  destroying  spirit. 


THE    WHITE    SWiLLBW. 


The  Dog-ribbed  Indians. 

Far  away  to  the  west,  and  in  a  very  high  northern  latitude,  dwelt, 
towards  the  latter  end  of  the  last  century,  a  small  tribe  of  Indians. 
Their  numbers  were  few,  their  characters  simple  and  un warlike. 
Not  being  celebrated  in  arms,  they  had,  while  residing  further  to 
the  south,  been  so  often  a  prey  to  their  fiercer  neighbors,  that  they 
had  gradually  retreated  northwards,  in  the  hope  of  escaping  from 
the  forays  of  their  enemies.  Matonaza,  a  young  chief  of  twenty 
summers  only,  commanded  the  reduced  tribe,  and  had  pitched  his 
wigwam  near  the  waters  of  a  lake.  A  renovraed  and  indefatigable 
hunter,  full  of  energy  and  perseverance,  he  owed  his  power  as 
much  to  his  individual  merits  as  to  the  renown  of  his  father ;  and 
now  that  seven-and-twenty  men  alone  remained  of  all  his  race,  and 
that  misfortune  and  the  disasters  of  war  had  driven  them  to  regions 
less  productive  in  game  than  their  former  residence,  his  sway  was 
unbounded.  Matonaza  was  as  yet  without  a  wife ;  but  the  most 
lovely  girl  of  his  tribe,  the  White  Swallow,  was  to  be  his  when  his 
twenty-first  summer  was  concluded,  when  she  herself  would  attain 
the  age  of  sixteen. 

In  general  the  Dog-ribbed  Indians  at  that  date  —  it  was  about 
1770  —  had  had  little  communication  with  the  white  man.  Their 
knives  were  still  of  bone  and  flint,  their  hatchets  of  horn,  their 
arrow-heads  of  slate,  while  the  beaver's  tooth  was  the  principal  mate- 
rial of  their  working  tools ;  but  Matonaza  himself  had  travelled, 
and  had  visited  Prince  of  Wales  Fort,  where  he  had  been  well 
received  by  Mr.  Moses  Northon,  the  governor,  himself  an  Indian, 
educated  in  England.  Admitted  into  the  intimacy  of  this  person, 
Matonaza  had  acquired  from  him  considerable  knowledge  without 
contracting  any  of  the  vices  which  disgraced  the  career  of  the  civil- 

11  am 


162  •       THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

ized  Red  Man.  He  had  learned  to  feel  some  of  the  humanizing 
influences  of  civilization,  and  held  woman  in  a  superior  light  to  his 
brethren,  who  pronounce  the  condemnation  of  savage  life  by  mak- 
ing the  female  part  of  the  creation  little  better  than  beasts  of  bur- 
then. He  had  hoped  for  great  advantage  to  his  tribe  from  trade 
with  the  pale  faces ;  but  the  enmity  of  the  Athapascow  Indians  had 
checked  all  his  aspirations,  and  he  had  been  compelled  to  make  a 
long  and  hasty  retreat  towards  the  north,  to  save  the  remnant  of  his 
little  band  from  annihilation.  In  all  probability  it  is  to  similar 
warlike  persecutions  that  the  higher  northern  regions  owe  their 
having  been  peopled  by  the  race  whence  are  descended  cne  Esqui- 
maux. 

The  exigencies  of  the  chase  and  the  fishery,  more  than  any  in- 
herent taste  for  the  picturesque,  had  fixed  Matonaza  in  a  lovely 
spot.  The  wigwams  of  the  young  chief  and  his  party  were  situated 
on  an  elevation  commanding  a  view  of  a  large  lake,  whose  borders, 
round  which  grew  the  larch,  the  pine,  and  the  poplar,  furnished 
them  with  firing,  tent-poles,  and  arms.  Beyond  lay  lofty  snow- 
clad  hills,  on  which  rested  eternal  frosts.  Above  the  tents  to  the 
right  and  to  the  north  fell  a  vast  cataract,  which  never  froze  even 
in  the  coldest  winter,  having  always  a  clear  expanse  at  its  foot  for 
fishing  even  in  the  dead  of  the  season.  At  the  foot  of  the  neigh- 
boring hills  the  hunters  found  the  deer,  the  elk,  and  the  buffalo, 
while  the  women  attended  to  the  nets  and  lines  in  the  lake.  In 
the  fitting  months  there  were  plenty  of  wild  fowl,  and  altogether, 
the  tribe,  though  exiled  from  the  warmer  fields  of  the  south,  had  no 
great  cause  of  complaint.  Their  tents  sheltered  them  well,  they 
had  plenty  of  food,  ample  occupation,  and  for  a  long  time  peace 
and  contentment.  Far  away  from  the  conflict  of  arms,  the  warriors 
threw  all  their  energy  into  hunting;  and,  with  the  habit  of  scalp- 
ing and  killing  their  fellows,  threw  oflT  much  of  their  rudeness. 
The  women  felt  the  change  sensibly :  their  husbands  grew  ten- 
derer ;  much  of  the  energy  wasted  on  murderous  propensities  found 
vent  in  the  domestic  sentiments.  The  fact  that  each  man  had  only 
one  wife,  and  some  none  —  their  victorious  adversaries  having  not 
only  killed  then*  best  men,  but  carried  oflf  their  marriageable  wo- 
men —  added  to  their  superiority  of  character.  Polygamy  among 
these  Indians,  as  everywhere  else,  brutalizes  the  men,  and  debases 
the  women ;  and  in  those  tribes  where  rich  men  had  as  many  aa 
eight  wives,  the  fair  sex  sujik  to  the  level  of  mere  slaves.  But  on 
the  borders  of  the  White  Lake  they  had  no  superabundance  of 
ladies,  and  they  were  valued  accordingly.  It  is  readily  to  be  com- 
prehended how  the  position  of  an  Englishman's  wife  is  preferable 


THE    WHITE    SWALLOW.  163 

to  that  of  a  sultan's ;  the  English  wife  is  alone ;  the  sultan's  spouse 
shares  his  affections,  such  as  they  may  be,  with  some  four  hun- 
dred ! 

Matonaza  viewed  this  state  of  things  with  delight.  He  had, 
since  his  residence  with  the  Pale  Faces,  become  ambitious.  He 
aimed  at  civilizing  his  people ;  he  had  already  induced  his  tribe  to 
consider  the  matrimonial  tie  as  permanent,  which  was  a  great  step. 
Then  he  boldly  entered  upon  the  somewhat  rash  experiment  of  al- 
leviating the  laborious  duties  of  the  women.  He  tried  to  in  luce 
the  men  to  do  some  of  the  hard  work ;  but  here  he  met  with  in- 
vincible repug-nance.  The  women  had  been  always  accustomed  to 
draw  the  sledges,  carry  the  baggage,  and  pitch  the  tents,  while  the 
men  hunted,  ate  and  smoked.  Any  departure  from  this  line  of 
conduct  was  beneath  "the  dignity  "  of  a  warrior.  Matonaza  dis- 
covered that  to  expect  any  permanent  change  in  a  nomadic  race 
used  to  hunting,  leading  a  wandering  life,  and  accustomed  to  arms, 
was  difficult.  He  felt  that  he  must  first  make  his  people  sedentary 
and  agricultural,  and  then  begin  their  civilization. 

Having  conceived  this  plan,  he  despatched  the  best  runner  in 
the  tribe  to  Prince  of  Wales  Fort.  He  gave  him  some  furs,  and  a 
message  to  Moses  Northon,  with  directions  to  follow  the  most  un- 
jfrequented  trails,  to  travel  cautiously,  and  by  no  means  to  allow 
the  terrible  Indians  of  Athapascow  Lake  to  track  him.  Three 
months  passed  before  the  runner  returned,  and  then  he  came  ac- 
companied by  a  young  and  adventurous  Englishman,  who  had 
sought  this  opportunity  of  learning  the  manners  of  the  far-off  tribes, 
and  of  studying  the  geography  of  the  interior.  Matonaza  received 
him  well,  and  was  glad  of  his  assistance  to  lay  out  his  fields  of 
corn  and  maize,  by  sowing  which,  he  hoped  to  attract  his  Indians 
to  a  permanent  residence,  and  to  destroy  all  fear  of  famine.  Mark 
Dalton  joyously  seconded  his  projects.  He  was  the  son  of  a  gen- 
tleman who  was  a  shareholder  in  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and 
who  joined  to  the  love  of  travel,  adventure,  and  the  chase,  consid- 
erable knowledge  of  agriculture.  One  year  older  than  the  Indian 
chief,  they  at  once  became  warm  friends,  and,  from  the  hour  of  their 
first  meeting,  were  never  a  day  apart. 

It  was  not  without  difficulty  that  the  chief  could  get  his  fields 
dug,  small  though  they  were,  though  he  and  Mark  worked,  because 
the  women  alone  followed  their  example.  The  soil  was  not  of  the 
best  character,  and  the  climate  pretty  rigorous ;  but  still  corn  would 
grow,  and  Matonaza  suffered  not  himself  to  be  downhearted.  A 
whole  spring,  summer,  and  autumn,  were  devoted  to  these  agricul- 
tural pursuits ;  and  when,  at  the  end  of  the  fine  season,  a  good 


164  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

harvest  enabled  the  tribe  to  vary  their  food  from  venison,  fish,  and 
buffalo  meat,  to  corn-cakes,  and  other  preparations  of  flour  and 
maize,  all  were  satisfied.  The  Indians,  naturally  indolent,  were 
pleased  at  the  prospect  of  obtaining  even  their  food  by  the  labor 
of  the  women.  This  was  not  precisely  what  the  youthful  chief 
desired,  but  it  was  still  a  kind  of  progress,  and  he  was  so  far  grati- 
fied. 

But  he  did  not  neglect  his  hunting.  Eager  to  show  Mark  all 
the  mysteries  of  his  craft,  Matonaza  led  him  after  the  elk,  which 
they  ran  down  together  on  foot  in  the  snow.  This  is  the  most 
arduous  department  of  Indian  hunting.  The  sportsmen  throw 
away  all  arms  which  may  embarrass  them,  keeping  only  a  knife, 
and  a  pouch  containing  the  means  of  striking  a  light.  Being  prac- 
tised while  the  snow  is  on  the  ground,  the  men  accordingly  wear 
long  snow-shoes.  The  Indian  chief  and  Mark  Dalton  rose  at  dawn 
of  day,  and,  having  succeeded  in  discovering  an  elk,  darted  along 
the  snow  in  pursuit.  The  chase  under  ordinary  circumstances 
would  be  vain,  a  man  being  not  at  all  equal  to  an  elk  in  a  running 
match ;  but,  on  the  present  occasion,  while  the  unfortunate  animal 
sunk  at  every  step  up  to  his  body  in  the  snow,  the  men  with  snow- 
shoes  glided  along  the  surface  with  extreme  rapidity.  With  all 
these  disadvantages,  the  animal  often  runs  seven  hours,  ten  hours, 
and  even  four-and-twenty  in  some  rare  instances ;  seldom,  however, 
escaping  from  the  patient  hunter.  When  reached,  they  make  a 
desperate  defence  with  their  head  and  fore-feet,  and  have  been 
known  to  slay  their  human  enemy. 

On  the  present  occasion,  the  animal  was  a  magnificent  specimen, 
considerably  taller  at  the  shoulders  than  a  horse,  and  his  head  fur- 
nished with  antlers  of  fifty  pounds'  weight.  His  coarse  and  angular 
hair,  so  little  elastic  that  it  breaks  when  bent,  was  of  a  grayish 
color,  having  probably  changed  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter 
from  nearly  black.  He  was  tracked  by  his  footprints  on  the  snow, 
the  hunters  keeping  at  some  distance  to  leeward  of  the  trail,  so  as 
not  to  alarm  the  watchful  animal  even  by  the  crackling  of  a  twig. 
He  was  at  length  seen,  but  at  too  great  a  distance  for  a  shot,  sitting 
on  his  hams  like  a  dog,  and  seemed  at  first  in  no  hurry  to  rise ; 
though,  when  at  last  satisfied  of  the  character  of  his  enemies,  and 
his  mind  made  up  for  flight,  he  got  upon  his  legs;  but  even  then, 
instead  of  bounding  and  galloping  like  other  deer,  he  shuffled  along 
so  heavily,  his  joints  cracking  audibly  at  every  step,  that  Mark  was 
inclined  to  form  but  a  mean  opinion  of  the  sport.  Grradually,  how- 
ever, its  ungainly  speed  increased,  its  hind-legs  straddling  from 
behind,  as  if  to  avoid  treading  on  its  fore-heels ;  and  when  a  pros 


THE    WHITE    SWALLOW.  1 G5 


trate  tree  interposed  in  the  path,  it  stepped  over  the  trunk,  however 
huge,  without  its  flight  being  interrupted  for  an  instant.  It  seemed, 
in  fact,  that  smaller  obstacles  were  more  dangerous  to  the  fugitive 
than  great  ones ;  for  running,  a,s  he  did,  with  his  nose  up  in  the  air, 
and  his  huge  horns  laid  horizontally  on  his  back  —  an  attitude 
necessary,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  to  sustain  their  weight  —  he  could 
riot  see  close  to  the  surface,  and  on  one  occasion  a  branch  which 
protruded  only  a  few  inches  from  the  snow  caught  his  fore-feet,  and 
he  rolled  over  with  a  heavy  fall.  The  hunters  thought  they  were 
now  sure  of  their  prey ;  but  the  elk  scrambled  on  his  legs  again  in 
surprisingly  little  time ;  and,  as  he  pursued  his  flight  with  unabated 
speed,  Matonaza  seemed  to  derive  some  quiet  amusement  from  the 
surprise  of  the  Pale  Face,  as  he  found  himself  engaged  in  so  difficult 
a  chase  of  so  apparently  unwieldy  an  animal. 

It  was  the  policy  of  the  hunters  to  turn  the  fugitive  to  where  the 
snow  was  deepest ;  but,  as  if  knowing  his  danger,  the  elk  contin- 
ued to  keep  on  comparatively  hard  ground,  and  at  length,  by  the 
intervention  of  trees  and  inequalities  of  the  surface,  he  escaped 
wholly  from  view.  His  trail,  however,  could  not  be  concealed; 
and  for  many  hours  his  pursuers  followed,  well  knowing  that  their 
quarry  was  only  a  short  distance  in  fiont,  but  unable  to  obtain  a 
glimpse  of  him.  The  trail  at  length  appeared  to  turn  towards  a 
hollow,  where  the  hunters  might  be  tolerably  secure  of  their  prize ; 
and  the  two  friends  separated,  to  make  such  a  sweep  as  would  lead 
them  to  the  same  point.  Presently,  however,  the  animal  appeared 
to  discover  his  imprudence  ;  and  at  a  moment  when  Mark  was 
unprepared,  he  saw  the  huge  creature  returning  on  his  own  trail, 
and  within  ten  or  twelve  yards  of  him.  The  rifle  seemed  to  go  off 
of  its  own  accord,  so  sudden  was  the  discharge ;  but  the  shot  missed 
and  on  came  the  elk,  its  nose  no  longer  in  the  air,  but  pointing  full 
at  its  enemy,  with  the  points  and  edges  of  its  tremendous  antlers 
in  terrible  array.  Mark  did  not  lose  his  presence  of  mind ;  but 
springing  behind  a  young  tree,  which  was  fortunately  at  hand,  felt 
himself  for  a  moment  in  safety. 

It  was  not  the  antlers  the  hunter  had  to  fear,  for  they  wore  not 
used  as  weapons  of  offence ;  but  the  creature,  determined  to  carry 
the  war  into  the  enemy's  quarters,  struck  furiously  at  the  interven- 
ing tree  with  his  fore-feet,  and  Mark  speedily  found  that  its  shelter 
would  not  long  be  between  him  and  his  justly-incensed  enemy.  No 
other  tree  was  near  enough  at  hand,  and  he  was  too  busily  engaged 
in  dodo'ino;  round  and  round  to  be  able  to  load  his  rifle.  Faster 
and  faster  fell  the  blows  of  the  fore-feet.  Now  a  piece  of  bark, 
now  a  splinter  of  wood,  flew  off;  and  now  the  tree  bent,  split,  and 


166  THE    WHITE    SWALLOW. 


came  crashing  down.  Even  so  fell  the  elk;  for,  just  at  the  critical 
moment,  a  bullet  from  the  Indian  chief,  who  had  returned  to  the 
rescue  at  imminent  peril  to  himself,  struck  him  in  a  vital  part,  and 
killed  him  on  the  spot. 

The  two  hunters  made  prize  of  the  skin  and  of  the  more  delicate 
parts  of  the  dead  animal,  and  on  returning  to  their  companions, 
loaded  with  the  spoil,  Mark  ate  for  the  first  time  of  elk  flesh  of  his 
own  hunting.  This  is  considered  a  great  delicacy  by  the  Indians 
and  all  residents  of  the  fur  countries.  It  is  preferred  by  many  to 
beef,  and  the  fat  resembles  that  of  a  breast  of  mutton. 

^Vhen  the  spring  had  anived,  it  was  resolved  that  the  whole  of 
the  male  party,  save  two  old  men,  should  start  on  a  trip  to  the 
mountains,  in  search  of  buffalo  and  elk,  which  they  intended  to 
kill,  dry,  and  drag  home  on  sledges  made  from  the  first  trees  they 
laid  their  hands  on.  The  women  were  to  join  them  six  weeks 
after  their  departure,  at  a  place  close  to  tk^  scene  of  their  hunt; 
and,  thus  reinforced,  the  men  hoped  to  have  an  ample  stock  of 
dried  meat  for  the  winter.  Grreat  preparations  were  made  on  the 
occasion.  All  the  arms  of  the  tribe  were  furbished  up.  Mato- 
naza  and  Mark  alone  had  firearms ;  the  rest  had  bows,  arrows,  and 
spears.  The  women  mended  the  clothes  of  the  hunters,  packed 
their  provisions,  and  made  the  thongs  to  drag  the  sledges  with. 
But  the  chief  part  of  such  utensils  were  to  be  brought  by  them  to 
the  rendezvous.  The  gentle,  lovely,  and  blushing  White  Swallow 
herself  luade  everything  ready  for  her  betrothed,  to  whom,  on  his 
return,  she  was  to  be  united.  All  was  smiling,  promising,  and 
joyous.  The  fields  of  the  little  settlement  were  improving ;  the 
wigwams  exhibited  the  air  of  more  permanent  buildings  than  they 
usually  are^;  and  when  the  warriors  departed  on  then*  errand,  they 
left  behind  them  a  happy  and  hopeful  community. 


The  Athapascow  Foray. 

As  soon  as  the  men  were  really  gone,  the  two  elders  proceeded 
to  organize  the  movements  of  the  party  for  the  next  six  weeks. 
They  had  been  directed  to  make  clothes,  watch  the  fields,  fish  for 
their  subsistence,  and  do  all  needful  domestic  duties.  All  save  the 
White  Swallow.  She,  the  unmarried,  but  affianced  bride  of  the 
chief,  was,  by  custom,  exempt  from  all  share  in  labor ;  but  to  this 
her  tastes  and  feelings  wer6  repugnant,  and  though  the  White 
Swallow  neither  scraped  leather,  nor  carried  burthens,  she  was  yet 
industrious  in  her  way.     She  learned  to  make  her  own  clothes,  ta 


THE   WHITE    SWALLOW.  167 

fish  in  the  lake,  to  light  a  fire,  to  build  a  tent,  to  snare  birds,  and 
to  perform  a  multitude  of  other  things  necessary  to  the  existence  of 
an  Indian  woman. 

Then,  again,  while  her  companions  were  scattered  round  the  lake 
or  in  the  fields,  she  would  stop  with  some  of  the  more  helpless 
infants.  She  would,  while  overlooking  them,  sit  still  and  think 
with  pride  and  joy  on  the  absent  one,  whose  image  was  always 
uppermost  in  her  thoughts.  In  general,  nothing  is  more  pleasant  to 
the  gentle  female  heart  than  the  memory  of  beings  well-beloved  and 
far  away ;  and  no  employment  is  more  conducive  to  this  dreamy 
occupation  than  sedentary  ones.  The  women  one  day  started  to 
fetch  the  produce  of  their  successful  draught  of  a  large  net  at  some 
distance,  taking  with  them  the  two  old  men.  The  whole  camp  was 
abandoned  to  the  guardianship  of  the  White  Swallow  and  a  couple 
of  shaggy,  ill-looking  dogs,  which  were  none  the  less  faithful 
because  ill-favored.  The  young  girl  had  volunteered  for  this 
service ;  and  to  her  charge  were  committed  eight  infants  of  various 
ages,  that  rolled  about  on  a  green  spot  with  the  dogs,  unable  to 
crawl  because  of  their  uncouth  swathing.  As  they  had  been  well 
fed  before  the  departure  of  the  mothers,  the  duty  of  Thee-kis-ho, 
the  Indian  name  of  our  heroine,  chiefly  consisted  in  keeping  away 
any  wandering  wolves  from  invading  the  camp ;  a  service  which 
the  dogs  probably  could  render  even  more  effectively. 

However  this  may  be,  the  young  girl  seated  herself  on  a  log  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  wigwams,  and  thence  looked  around. 
At  her  feet  was  the  lake,  divided  from  her  only  by  some  fifty  feet 
of  cornfield ;  Matonaza  having  placed  his  fields  near  the  water. 
To  her  right  was  a  large  and  novel  building  for  an  Indian  village, 
erected  under  the  guidance  of  Mark,  and  which  served  as  the 
granary  of  the  tribe.  Close  to  this  was  the  wigwam  of  the  vener- 
able dame  who  was  her  adopted  mother  — not  one  of  her  relatives 
remaining  alive.  At  some  distance  was  the  chief's  hut,  and  on 
this  her  eyes  were  fixed ;  and  the  sight  naturally  enough  filled  her 
mind  with  sunny  thoughts ;  for  she  could  look  forward  now  to  its 
being  hers  too  at  no  distant  period ;  and  cold,  indeed,  must  be  the 
female  heart  which  is  not  warmed  at  the  thoughts  of  the  home  which 
is  soon  to  receive  her  as  a  wife. 

Thus  occupied,  and  watching  over  the  children,  and  in  prepara- 
tions for  the  evening  meal,  the  hours  flew  swiftly  by,  and  the 
White  Swallow  at  last  heard  the  voices  of  the  returning  party  just 
as  night  was  about  to  close  upon  the  scene.  At  this  instant  her 
ear  was  attracted  by  footsteps  approaching  from  behind.  She  turned 
and  one  wild  shriek  betrayed  the  intei\sity  of  her  alarm. 


168  THE    WHITE   SWALLOW. 

**  The  Athapascows  !  "  she  cried,  springing  up,  and  about  dart* 
ing  away  to  meet  her  companions. 

"Stay,"  said  a  young  warrior,  leaping  to  her  side;  "there  is 
room  in  my  wigwam  for  another  squaw." 

Seven  painted  and  horrid  Indians  were  around  the  young 
girl  ere  she  could  move.  They  were  all  in  their  war-paint,  and 
well  armed ;  they  stood  gazing  at  the  village  an  instant,  as  if  irreso- 
lute. 

"Warriors  of  the  Dog-ribbed  race  !  "  cried  the  resolute  girl  in 
a  loud  and  ringing  voice,  "on  to  save  your  wigwams  !  The  lying 
foxes  of  the  Athapascows  are  among  us  !  " 

The  young  Indian  seized  her  by  the  arm,  a  second  plucked  a 
brand  from  the  fire,  and  cast  it  into  the  granary,  and  then  the  whole 
party,  conceiving  the  men  of  the  tribe  to  be  upon  them,  commenced 
a  rapid  retreat,  bearing  with  them  their  WTctched  and  disconsolate 
captive.  They  were  a  party  of  ambitious  youths,  who,  having  hit 
upon  the  trail  of  the  runner  the  year  before,  had  tracked  his  steps 
in  search  of  scalps  and  glory.  Alighting  on  the  camp  when 
deserted  by  all  but  the  White  Swallow,  they  had  intended  to  hide  in 
the  huts  until  the  return  of  the  rest  of  the  party ;  but  suddenly 
startled  by  the  cry  which  responded  to  that  of  Thee-kis-ho,  they, 
fled,  believing  the  whole  tribe  to  be  upon  them.  Their  haste  had 
marred  the  object  of  their  expedition,  while  their  position  became 
one,  as  they  thought,  of  extreme  danger.  The  part  to  be  played 
by  the  young  girl  was  most  painful.  If  she  revealed  the  absence 
of  the  men,  the  Athapascows  would  return  and  capture  the  rest  of 
the  women ;  if  she  remained  silent,  she  was  doomed  to  be  hurried 
away  into  captivity,  all  the  more  horrid  because  of  her  late  day- 
dreams and  visions.  While  dwelling  on  these  thoughts,  she  found 
herself  proceeding  to  a  considerable  distance  from  the  camp  in  a 
south-easterly  direction.  The  Indians  moved  with  the  utmost 
rapidity  and  silence  towards  a  very  broken,  stony,  and  arid  plain, 
^the  last  spot  which  men  would  have  been  supposed  to  choose  for  a 
retreat.  Suddenly  they  halted  at  the  edge  of  one  of  those  deep 
fissures  met  with  sometimes  in  the  prairies  and  in  the  plains  of  the 
West :  this  was  their  camp.  Their  victim  was  told  to  go  down, 
and  was  then  placed  in  a  natural  hollow,  the  Indians  barring  all 
exit.  They  next  proceeded  to  light  a  small  fire  with  some  well- 
chaiTed  wood,  that  gave  neither  flame  nor  smoke,  upon  which  they 
cooked  their  evening  meal.  A  piece  of  meat  was  given  to  the  girl, 
which  she  ate,  strength  being  necessary  to  her.  She  had  not  aban- 
doned aU  hope.  There  are  a  thousand  chances  between  total 
despair,  as  between  the  fruition  of  hopes,  and  Thee-kis-ho,  while 


"SP^J 


THE    WHITE    SWALLOW.  1G9 

crouching  in  her  hole,  strained  every  faculty  of  her  mind  for  an 
idea  out  of  which  might  come  escape. 

The  Indians  conversed  with  considerable  volubility  as  soon  a3 
one  nad  departed  as  a  scout.  There  were  no  aged  or  experienced 
warriors  among  them  to  check  their  eagerness  and  levity.  They 
expressed  themselves  in  a  dialect  which  the  White  Swallow  partly 
understood.  She  could  distinguish  that  they  spoke  with  consider 
able  disappointment  about  theii'  failure,  and  that  all  seemed  deter- 
mined not  to  return  home  until  they  had  obtained  a  sufficient 
number  of  scalps  to  excuse  with  the  elders  of  the  tribe  their  temerity 
and  long  absence.  Much  diiSerence  of  opinion  prevailed,  but  at 
last  the  whole  party  came  to  a  resolution  which  can  only  be  com- 
prehended by  those  who  know  the  Indian  character.  They 
resolved  upon  marching  northward  to  the  Coppermine  River,  to 
waylay  and  attack  the  unfortunate  Esquimaux,  whom  they  expected 
to  have  the  double  satisfaction  of  killing  and  robbing.  These 
Esquimaux  have  from  time  immemorial  been  the  prey  of  the  more 
southern  tribes,  whose  persecution  accounts  for  a  large  portion  of 
the  race  having  abandoned  terra  jirma,  to  live  on  the  islands  in 
the  Polar  Sea,  where  they  were  found  by  Eoss,  Parry,  Franklin, 
and  other  explorers. 

Thee-kis-ho  heard  this  decision  with  varied  emotions,  while  another 
gave  her  unqualified  satisfaction.  It  was  determined  that,  as  their 
prize  was  young  and  pretty,  she  should  be  the  reward^  at  the  end 
of  the  expedition,  of  the  bravest  and  most  distinguished  member  of 
the  party.  The  journey  with  which  she  was  threatened  was  long, 
arduous,  and  of  doubtful  issue ;  but  it  offered,  all  the  more  readily 
on  this  account,  some  chance  of  escape,  and  the  occui'rences  of  the  two 
or  three  moons  before  her  might  still  enable  her  to  wed  the  young 
chief;  a  consummation  which  she  resolved  should  never  happen  if 
she  were  forced  first  of  all  to  be  the  squaw  of  an  Athapascow. 
The  moon  rose  about  midnight,  when  the  Indians  were  smoking, 
and  the  scout  then  returned,  bringing  word  that  their  camp  was 
admuably  hidden,  and  that  there  were  no  alarming  signs  within  some 
miles.  Satisfied  with  this  assurance,  the  whole  party  went  to 
sleep,  after  tying  both  the  arms  and  feet  of  their  captive  in  such  a 
way  that,  while  not  hurting  her,  the  thongs  completely  precluded 
movement. 

Wearied  with  her  walk  and  her  thoughts,  the  White  Swallow 
went  to  sleep,  and  awoke  only  when  summoned  to  cook  the  morning 
repast  of  her  captors,  after  which  they  started  along  an  arid  plain 
towards  the  north,  in  which  duection  lay  the  villages  of  the  Esqui- 
maux. About  mid-day  a  halt  took  place  near  a  small  wood ;  and 
while  some  went  about  in  search  of  game,  the  rest  set  hard  to  work 


170  THE    WHITE    SWALLOW. 


to  make  shields,  which  were  absolutely  necessary  to  defend  them* 
se'vesB  against  the  fish-bone  arrows  of  their  enemies.  Thee-kis-ho 
received  a  knife  —  part  of  a  sharpened  hoop  —  to  aid  in  the  process, 
which,  when  the  work  was  concluded,  its  owner  forgot  to  reclaim, 
and  the  Indian  girl  gladly  hid  it  about  her  person.  The  shields 
were  ingeniously  fashioned  of  small  strips  of  wood  fastened  by 
deer-skin  thongs,  and,  when  finished,  were  three  feet  long,  two  feet 
broad,  and  a  couple  of  inches  thick.  It  was  nearly  evening  when 
the  work  was  concluded  ;  but  the  Indians,  fearful  of  being  pursued, 
after  eating  a  hearty  meal,  continued  their  march  some  hours 
longer,  and  camped  near  a  lake  of  small  dimensions.  The  White 
Swallow  took  careful  note  of  all  the  places  they  came  to,  that  she 
might  find  her  way  back  again  if  possible,  and  was  not  sorry  to 
observe  that  the  Indians  left  a  pretty  evident  trail. 

For  several  days  after,  their  progress  was  very  slow  indeed,  as 
much  game  fell  in  their  way,  and  the  Athapascows,  to  whom  eating 
was  even  more  grateful  than  glory,  revelled  on  the  fat  deer  of  the 
lakes.  Much  more,  hot^ever,  was  killed  than  was  consumed,  from 
the  mere  love  of  waste,  which  is  inherent  in  most  savage  people. 
These  Indians  would  not  pass  a  bird's  nest  without  destroying  it, 
much  more  a  deer  which  they  could  neither  eat  nor  carry ;  while, 
if  they  refrained  from  setting  fire  to  a  gi'ove  of  trees  they  encamped 
in  at  night,  it  was  not  from  any  calculation  that  they  or  others 
might  want  the  grove  again,  but  because  the  conflagration  might 
betray  them.  Here,  as  in  nearly  everything  else,  the  alleged 
superiority  of  the  "child  of  nature"  fades  before  examination. 

They  soon  reached  the  confines  of  inhabited  ground,  when  they 
hit  upon  the  branch  of  the  Conge-cathawachaga  Eiver;  and  as  the. 
dwellers  on  its  banks  were  enemies,  and  too  powerful  for  seven  men 
to  attack,  every  precaution  was  taken.  No  fires  were  lit;  they 
camped  in  strange  out-of-the-way  places ;  and  crossed  the  stream 
swimming,  despite  the  rapid  current,  which  swept  them  a  long  way 
down.  The}''  hit  one  night  on  a  large  camp,  with  blazing  fires  and 
numerous  dogs,  but  moved  off  as  fast  as  possible,  being  not  at  all 
inclined  to  have  fifty  Coppermine  Indians  at  their  heels.  These 
savages  do  not  live  so  near  the  sea  as  the  Esquimaux,  but  they 
have  many  of  the  same  habits.  Still,  they  are  a  distinct  race, 
though  probably  all  the  inhabitants  of  America  are  of  Tai'tar  or 
Chinese  origin. 

They  were  still  at  some  distance  from  the  Coppermine  River,  and 
weary  and  sore-footed  indeed  was  Thee-kis-ho,  now  some  five  or  six 
hundred  miles  away  from  the  home  of  her  friends  and  her  intended 
husband.     Provisions,  too,  were  now  short ;  and  as  on  such  occa- 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  171 

eions  the  men  of  this  part  of  America  help  themselves  first,  the 
White  Swallow  went  often  to  rest  without  food.  An  Indian,  when 
reduced  to  semi-starvation,  will  rarely,  if  ever,  divide  what  he  has 
with  his  wife  or  wives  —  he  eats  all,  and  leaves  the  women  to  starve. 
Some  days  even  the  men  were  reduced  to  a  pipe  and  a  draught  of 
water,  and  the  girl  was  glad  to  chew  the  leaves  of  an  odoriferous 
plant  by  way  of  a  last  resource. 

The  way,  too,  was  arid  and  rough.  They  were  now  amid  the 
Rocky  Mountains  of  the  farther  north,  a  vast  and  dark  pile  of 
rocks,  looking  perfectly  inaccessible ;  but  on  Went  the  Indians,  some- 
times walking,  sometimes  crawling  on  their  hands  and  knees.  The 
path,  however,  was  marked  and  clear  as  any  highway,  but  often  so 
steep,  as  to  present  extraordinary  difficulties.  At  night  they  slept 
in  hollows  and  caves  without  fire,  generally  from  want  of  wood ;  but 
sometimes  from  the  heavy  rains,  which  rendered  the  moss,  usually 
a  never-failing  resource,  damp  and  useless.  All  this  tended  to  put 
the  Indians  in  a  savage  humor,  which  promised  little  for  the  poor 
Esquimaux ;  and  Thee-kis-ho  suffered  all  the  more  neglect  and  hun- 
ger. In  fact,  with  the  exception  of  raw  meat,  devoured  with  raven- 
ous ardor,  there  were  no  meals  taken  during  the  whole  time  they 
were  crossing  the  mountains. 

Near  Buffalo  Lake  they  killed  a  large  number  of  the  animals 
which  gave  it  its  name,  and,  finding  some  wood,  regaled  themselves. 
The  White  Swallow,  more  determined  than  ever  to  fly,  concealed 
a  small  portion  of  food  about  her  person,  that  at  all  events  she 
might  not  starve  in  her  flight.  The  road,  after  their  departure 
from  Buffalo  Lake,  became  less  rugged  and  disagreeable,  while,  by 
signs  which  had  been  described  to  themsby  certain  old  Indians,  they 
believed  themselves  approaching  the  termination  of  their  journey. 
The  young  men  seemed  chiefly  satisfied  at  recognizing  the  eminence 
of  the  Gray  Bear,  so  called  because  frequented  in  certain  seasons 
by  those  animals.  At  last  the  sight  of  a  large  wood,  and  of  a  river 
in  the  distance,  made  the  warriors  eagerly  advance.  They  were  in 
view  of  Coppermine  Biver,  a  stream  wide,  shallow,  and  filled  with 
rocks  and  cataracts. 

A  halt  was  now  called,  and  a  council  held.  All  were  unanimous 
that  a  day's  rest  and  food  were  necessary  before  striking  their 
intended  blow.  Accordingly,  while  the  White  Swallow  and  two 
Indians  stopped  to  prepare  the  fire,  the  others  started  off  in  vari- 
ous directions  in  search  of  game.  It  was  the  last  time  they  would 
hunt  before  they  attacked  the  Esquimaux,  as  it  would  henceforth 
be  dangerous  to  let  tne  report  of  firearms  be  heard  in  the  neighbor- 
hood.    Before  two  hours  had  passed,  each  Indian  had  brought  in 


172  THE   WHITE  SWALLOW. 

his  deer,  and  then  all  fell  to  work  to  broil,  and  roast,  and  stew,  eat- 
ing aa  they  went  on.  The  consumption  of  victuals  would  have 
alarmed  an  English  troop  of  horse,  but  the  enormous  capacity  of 
the  Indian  for  food  is  well  known.  It  is  enough  to  say,  that  had 
the  White  Swallow  not  been  well  fastened  by  leathern  thongs,  she 
could  easily  have  escaped,  as,  before  night,  every  Athapascow  war- 
rior was  sleeping  off  his  feast  like  a  boa-constrictor. 


Matonaza. 

When  the  Indian  women  saw  the  brand  thrown  into  their  gran- 
ary, and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  retreating  Indians,  they  knew  at 
once  the  nature  of  the  late  surprise.  Their  first  impulse  was  deep 
gratitude  for  their  fortunate  return,  for  one  minute  longer,  and 
every  child  on  the  green-sward  would  have  been  immolated ;  the 
red-skin  in  his  wars  sparing  neither  toddling  infancy,  decrepit  old 
age,  nor  defenceless  women.  Then  a  scream  of  rage  and  despair 
arose  as  they  discovered  that  the  pride  of  the  tribe,  their  chief's 
affianced  wife,  Avas  gone.  They  looked  about  in  speechless  terror, 
expecting  to  see  her  bleeding  and  mangled  corpse,  but  several 
declared  that  they  had  recognized  both  her  form  and  her  voice 
among  the  marauders.  Then  all  the  women,  and  the  boys  and  lads 
of  eleven  and  twelve,  seized  every  available  weapon,  and,  after  light- 
ing huge  fires,  prepared  to  pass  the  night.  The  conflagration  of  the 
barn  was  easily  extinguished ;  and  fortunately  so,  for  it  contained 
the  whole  of  the  unconsumed  autumn  crop. 

The  night,  though  full  of  alarms,  passed  peaceably,  and  before  its 
termination,  one  of  the  old  men  had  severely  cautioned  and  instructed 
one  of  the  lads,  whom  he  designed  as  the  bearer  of  the  news  to  Ma- 
tonaza. The  boy,  proud  and  honored  by  the  trust  reposed  in  him, 
took  his  bow  and  arrows,  provisions  for  four  days,  and  just  about 
dawn  started  at  a  round  trot  towards  the  hills,  which  he  reached 
with  unerring  accuracy  on  the  third  day.  But  no  trace  of  the  war- 
riors of  his  tribe  did  he  find.  Still,  the  lad  hesitated  not  a  moment . 
climbing  a  lofty  and  prominent  eminence,  he  cast  his  eyes  for  some 
ten  minutes  round  the  horizon.  Satisfied  with  this  scrutiny,  he 
tightened  his  belt,  descended,  and  darted  across  a  long  low  plain,  at 
the  very  extremity  of  which  he  had  seen  a  rather  remarkable  column 
of  smoke,  which  the  boy  at  once  attributed  to  the  Pale  Face  who 
accompanied  his  friends. 

After  three  houi-s  of  continuous  running,  he  gained  a  small  lake, 
on  the  borders  of  which  was  a  fire  in  the  centre  of  a  grove  of  trees. 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  173 

He  clearly  distinguished  a  man  engaged  in  the  classical  and  time- 
honored  art  of  cooking.  It  was  Mark,  as  he  expected ;  who,  being 
a  little  wearied,  had  volunteered  to  pass  a  day  in  the  camp,  cooking 
and  inhaling  tobacco-smoke,  with  eating,  which  is  the  acme  of  lux- 
ury in  the  eyes  of  a  prairie  hunter.  The  lad  advanced  straight 
towards  the  fire,  and,  without  speaking,  sunk,  exhausted  and  faint- 
ing, at  the  feet  of  the  Englishman.  Mark  seized  his  double-bar- 
relled gun,  fii'ed  both  barrels,  and  then,  these  preconcerted  signals 
given,  piling  a  great  armful  of  green  boughs  on  the  fire,  stooped  to 
attend  to  the  boy.  He  raised  him  up,  gave  him  water,  a  little 
brandy,  and  then  food.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  he  could  tell  his 
story.  Mark  heard  him  with  dismay.  He  had  formed  a  warm 
attachment  for  his  Indian  friend,  and  a  proportionate  one  for  his 
future  wife.  He  knew  at  once  how  agonizing  would  be  the  feelings 
of  the  young  warrior,  who,  having  but  this  one  squaw  in  view,  had 
fixed  on  her  his  ardent  affections  far  more  strongly  than  is  usual 
with  a  red-skin. 

It  was  not  long  ere  the  whole  party  were  collected  round  the  fire. 
The  Indians  came  in  from  all  sides  at  the  sight  of  the  signal.  A 
dead  silence  then  ensued,  not  one  of  the  red-skins  asking  any  ques- 
tions. All  saw  the  boy ;  but  not  even  his  own  father  evinced  any 
womanly  or  unusual  curiosity  by  taking  notice  of  him. 

"Matonaza  is  a  great  warrior,"  said  Mark  Dalton  solemnly,  after 
a  certain  pause  ;  "  and  his  heart  is  the  heart  of  a  man.  The  Ath- 
apascow  Indian  is  a  snake :  he  has  crept  in  and  stolen  away  the 
Swallow." 

The  young  chief  said  nothing,  but  Mark  plainly  saw  the  muscles 
of  his  face  working,  and  knew  how  he  felt.  But  he  took  no  note  of 
the  warrior's  emotion,  but  bade  the  boy  tell  his  story. 

The  lad  stepped  forward,  and  briefly  narrated  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

"  Ugh ! "  said  Matonaza  after  a  pause ;  "  my  brothers  will  con- 
tinue their  hunt.  Let  them  keep  hawk-eyes  about  them.  Mato- 
naza and  the  Roaming  Panther,"  pointing  to  the  runner  who  had 
formerly  gone  with  him  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  Fort,  "  will  chase 
the  thieves  who  steal  away  women.     Let  us  go  ! " 

Mark  started  to  his  feet,  caught  up  his  rifle,  took  a  substantial 
piece  of  deer's  meat,  and  was  ready  in  an  instant  to  join  them.  A 
few  words  passed  between  the  chief  and  his  people.  He  directed 
them  to  proceed  with  their  duties.  He  would  send  the  women  to 
join  them  at  once;  and  with  Mark  and  the  Roaming  Panther, 
he  started  on  his  chase  of  perhaps  a  thousand  miles  and  more, 
apparently  as  coolly  as  a  European  would  have  gone  out  for  a  walk. 


174  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 


The  evening  of  the  third  day  found  them  at  their  village,  where 
they  were  received  in,  respectful  silence.  Matonaza  caused  the  old 
men  to  tell  the  story  of  the  White  Swallow's  abduction  once  more ; 
and  then,  after  bidding  the  whole  party  go  join  the  hunters,  retired 
to  rest  with  his  two  companions,  bidding  Mark  sleep  as  long  as  he 
possibly  could.  The  chief  did  not  rouse  him  till  a  late  hour,  after 
he  had  himself  tracked  the  trail  of  the  Athapascows  to  a  consid- 
erable distance.  They  breakfasted  heartily,  and  then  each  man, 
with  his  gun,  powder,  and  powder-horn,  started  on  his  way.  The 
chief  led  the  van,  his  eye  fixed  on  the  trail  of  the  party.  He 
pointed  out  to  JMark  the  moccasin  step  of  the  young  girl  with  a 
grim  smile.  Mark  was  pained  at  the  sadness  of  his  expression^, 
but  said  nothing. 

They  with  difficulty  followed  the  trail  along  the  arid  plain  which 
the  Athapascows  had  first  hit  upon,  and,  at  one  time,,  when  the  ground 
was  unusually  hard,  even  lost  it.  The  two  Indians  at  once  parted, 
one  to  the  right,  the  other  to  the  left ;  Mark,  who  was  eager  to 
prove  himself  of  use,  looked  anxiously  about,  and  at  last  caused 
the  warriors  to  run  to  him.  The  white  man  pointed  with  a  smile 
to  the  hole  in  which  the  enemy  had  camped  on  the  first  night  of 
their  flight. 

"  Good !  "  said  Matonaza,  taking  his  hand ;  "  my  brother  has  an 
Indian  eye." 

And  the  journey  was  at  once  pursued  without  further  comment. 
As  frequently  as  possible  the  party  camped  in  the  places  where  their 
enemies  had  camped  before  them,  as  the  chief  was  sure  to  find  some 
note  of  the  White  Swallow  —  her  footstep  in  the  ashes  near  the  fire  ; 
a  mark  where  she  had  lain ;  or,  at  all  events,  some  almost  invisible 
sign  of  her  existence.  Every  day,  however,  the  warrior  grew  more 
uneasy  as  he  advanced  towards  the  north.  He  began  to  suspect  the 
errand  of  the  Athapascows.  He  knew,  though  only  traditionally, 
the  terrible  journey  which  must  be  performed  ere  the  land  of  the 
Esquimaux  could  be  reached,  and  regarded  it  as  almost  impossible 
that  a  young  girl  could  outlive  its  hardships.  Still  on  he  went, 
never  dreaming  of  abandoning  the  chase  —  never  even  alluding  to 
such  an  idea.  He,  however,  increased  the  extent  of  their  daily 
march,  though  sometimes  compelled  to  delay  while  seeking  for  food. 
The  wood,  where  the  young  men  made  their  shields,  confirmed  him 
in  his  belief  as  to  their  errand. 

At  night  they  hastily  ate  what  food  they  had,  and  lay  down  to 
sleep.  No  time  was  wasted  in  talking.  Rest  was  all  they  required, 
and  it  was  to  them  of  the  utmost  consequence. 

"At  this  rate,"  said  Mark,  one  day,  when  he  f-.ijf^id  himself 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  175 


approaching  the  north  more  and  more  every  hour,  "we  shall  reaoh 
the  Icy  Sea  itself!" 

"  The  White  Swallow  is  on  its  borders,"  replied  the  chief,  quietly. 

And  they  proceeded  on  their  journey. 

They  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains,  here  also  strictly  adhering  to 
the  trail  of  the  x\thapascows,  and  were  at  no  great  distance  from 
the  Coppermine  River,  when  one  night,  at  some  distance  on  the 
plain,  they  saw  a  small,  low,  flickering  light.  Their  own  fire  was 
composed  of  mere  embers,  but  even  these  were  hastily  covered  up. 
Matonaza  cast  his  eyes  around.  Not  a  tree,  not  a  bush  was  there 
to  aid  their  approach,  though  the  camp  in  the  distance  seemed  to  be 
near  a  dark  object,  which  looked  like  a  stunted  grove  of  trees.  This 
could  not  be,  however,  they  having  already  passed,  as  they  supposed, 
the  region  in  which  trees  are  found. 

The  three  men  looked  to  their  rifles,  stooped  low,  and  began  to 
crawl  towards  the  distant  fire  on  their  hands  and  knees.  The  night 
was  pitchy  dark.  The  sky  was  lowering,  and  threatened  rain.  The 
low  fire,  scarcely  distinguishable  at  times,  was  all  that  guided  them. 
Presently,  however,  its  glare  became  more  evident,  and  Matonaza 
discovered  that  it  was  placed  under  the  cover  of  some  low  trees 
which  grew  on  the  borders  of  the  Coppermine  River.  He  could 
now  clearly  distinguish  a  party  of  men  sitting  round  the  small  fire 
in  the  act  of  smoking ;  and  leaving  his  companions  and  his  rifle, 
advanced  unarmed,  bidding  them  slowly  reach  a  bank  within  pistol- 
shot  of  the  camp.  He  then  began  to  writhe  or  slide  along  the 
ground  instead  of  crawling,  moving  a  yard  or  two,  and  then  stop- 
ping to  breathe  or  listen.  In  about  ten  minutes  they  saw  him  roll 
himself  behind  the  bushes  of  the  camp.  They  saw  no  more,  for  a 
strong  ray  of  the  moon  peeped  through  a  cloud,  and  they  could  no 
longer  raise  their  heads  above  the  ground.  They  fell  behind  the  low 
bank  agreed  on,  and  waited. 

Three  quarters  of  an  hour  passed,  and  then  Matonaza  rejoined 
them,  using  the  same  caution  as  before.  He  was  out  of  breath  with 
his  hard  labor,  for  such  it  is  to  crawl  along  the  ground  like  a  snake, 
never  rising  on  the  hands  or  knees.  As  soon  as  he  could  speak,  he 
told  his  companions  in  a  whisper  that  these  were  the  Athapascows 
returning  after  a  terrible  foray  among  the  Esquimaux.  The  Whit« 
Swallow,  however,  was  not  with  them.  They  spoke  of  her  absence 
with  regret,  and  as  a  severe  disappointment,  but  how  her  absence 
was  occasioned  he  could  not  tell.  IMatonaza  spoke  in  a  tone  which 
was  new  to  his  white  friend.  He  seemed  husky,  and  his  eyes  glared 
like  those  of  a  panther.  The  fearful  excitement  he  had  endured, 
and  his  terrible  awakening  from  a  dreaiF  of  happiness,  all  the  greater 


176  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

from  his  half-European  education,  had  almost  driven  every  civilized 
idea  out  of  his  head. 

"  Roaming  Panther,"  said  he  to  the  Indian  runner,  "  is  thy  rifle 
ready  ? " 

"  What  would  my  brother  do  ? "  asked  Dalton  hurriedly. 

"  Kill  my  enemies !  "  replied  the  warrior  coldly. 

"  What !  skulking  behind  a  bank  ?  " 

"  Warrior  of  the  Pale  Faces,  hear  my  words !  Does  a  bear  show 
himself  in  the  distance  when  lying  in  wait  for  his  prey  ?  Does  a 
white  warrior,  when  in  ambush,  give  a  signal  ?  We  are  three  :  the 
Athapascow  dogs  are  seven.  Not  one  shall  see  the  home  of  his 
fathers :  their  squaws  shall  find  other  husbands.  They  have  robbed 
Matonaza  of  his  squaw :  they  shall  die !  " 

A  double  report  followed ;  and  then,  as  the  Indians  with  a  fear- 
ful cry  rose  in  the  air  to  lie  down  again  in  the  dark,  the  Little  Snake, 
as  the  handsome  young  chief  was  called,  levelled  and  discharged 
the  rifle  of  his  friend  Dalton,  who  had  declined  to  shoot  at  the  unpre- 
pared savages. 

"  I  spit  on  ye,  dogs  of  Athapascows !  "  yelled  the  Little  Snake  as 
they  fired  at  random.  "A  Dog-ribbed  chief  will  leave  your  bones 
to  bleach  on  the  plains  of  the  Icy  Sea !  " 

With  these  words  the  three  friends  retreated,  loading  their  rifles ; 
and,  wading  across  the  river,  concealed  themselves  in  a  low  hollow, 
and  sought  rest.  Mark  slept  uneasily.  The  neighborhood  of  fierce 
and  bloody  enemies,  roused  to  desperation  by  recent  losses,  was  far 
from  being  pleasant;  and  he  was  little  surprised  when,  on  rising  in 
the  morning  first  amongst  his  party,  a  leaden  bullet  at  once  hit 
the  bank  near  him.  He  dropped  down,  and  in  an  instant  the  whole 
three  were  again  prepared.  The  Athapascows,  six  in  number  — 
one  had  been  killed  —  were  near  a  bush  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river.  They  had  just  at  daybreak  tracked  the  Dog-ribbed  Indians. 
These  fired,  nor  was  Mark  behind-hand  ;  and  so  fatal  was  their  aim 
that  two  warriors  fell  headlong  into  the  river.  The  others,  who 
were  not  aware  of  the  nature  of  rifles,  introduced  only  by  the  chief 
himself  and  Mark,  flew  to  cover,  astounded  at  the  distance  at  which 
they  had  been  struck.  The  friends  loaded,  and  pursued.  The  Ath- 
apascows turned,  and  fled  across  the  plain. 

Matonaza  gave  vent  to  a  low  and  scornful  laugh.  "  Let  them  go 
and  boast  to  their  women  that  their  brothers  were  killed  in  terrible 
fight.  They  are  squaws  and  will  tell  of  a  battle  with  a  hundred 
warriors  in  their  war-paint." 

Mark  at  once  added,  that  to  follow  them  was  to  lose  all  trace  of 
the  White  Swallow,  who  was  either  a  prisoner  among  the  Esqui- 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  177 

maux,  or  hiding  somewhere  in  the  hollows  of  the  hills,  awaiting  the 
departure  of  their  enemies.  Besides,  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  for  the 
winter  was  coming  on,  and  all  hope  of  finding  her  would  vanish  with 
that  season. 

Matonaza  replied  by  turning  his  back  on  the  river,  and  searching 
for  the  old  trail  of  the  party.  They  soon  found  the  remains  of  a 
fire,  with  bones  of  animals  —  deer,  &c.,  —  which  had  been  recently 
devoured,  and  thus  continued  their  journey  at  some  distance  from 
the  banks  of  the  Coppermine  Eiver. 


The  Esquimaux  Village. 

We  left  the  White  Swallow  advancing  towards  the  village  of  th« 
Esquimaux  with  her  worthless  companions.  The  race  about  to  be 
attacked,  like  most  of  the  Esquimaux,  were  of  small  stature,  and  lit- 
tle strength  or  beauty.  They  are  very  stout,  copper-colored,  and 
in  general  ugly,  though  some  of  the  women  form  exceptions.  They 
resemble  all  the  tribe  in  dress,  while  their  arms  are  bows  and  arrows, 
lances  and  darts.  They  have  canoes  with  double  paddles,  and  tents 
composed  of  deer-skins,  with  stone  and  ice  huts  for  winter.  Their 
utensils  are  all  of  stone  and  wood,  with  spoons  and  bowls  of  buf- 
falo horn.  Their  hatchets,  pikes,  and  arrow-heads  are  of  copper. 
They  are  a  poor,  harmless  race,  who  live  by  fishing  and  hunting, 
whose  sole  riches  consisted  in  a  little  copper  they  found  near  the 
river  —  thence  called  Coppermine  River. 

It  was  this  unfortunate  race  who,  from  their  helplessness  and 
weakness,  had  been  selected  as  the  fitting  victims  of  the  seven  Ath- 
apascow  warriors.  In  this  the  red-skins  only  acted  in  accordance 
with  the  true  principles  of  war  —  to  respect  the  strong,  and  prey 
upon  the  weak.  The  White  Swallow  remained  behind  on  one  occa- 
sion while  two  scouts  went  out  to  scour  the  banks  of  the  stream  in 
search  of  intelligence.  They  soon  came  back  with  the  information, 
that  about  fifteen  miles  distant  were  five  tents  of  Esquimaux,  so 
placed  as  to  be  completely  open  to  a  surprise.  It  was  then  decided 
that  the  attack  should  take  place  the  following  night.  Meanwhile 
they  waded  across  the  river,  to  be  on  the  same  side  as  their  wretched 
victims.  Here  they  halted  to  load  their  guns,  furbish  their  lances, 
and  prepare  their  shields. 

Every  man  set  to  work  to  paint  his  buckler  —  one  representing 

the  sun,  the  other  the  moon,  others  birds  of  prey  and  other  animals, 

with  imaginary  beings,  fantastic  human  creatures,  and  beasts  of  all 

kinds.     They  were  all  to  serve  as  their  protection  during  the  c»m- 

12 


178  THE    WHITE    SWALLOW. 

bat,  their  shields  being  at  once  "  medicine."  Even  the  White  Swal 
low,  who  was  used  to  their  Indian  customs,  was  puzzled  to  know  the 
meaning  of  half  the  rude  drawings  daubed  with  chalk  and  red 
clay,  as  not  one  had  any  resemblance  to  anything  in  heaven  or  upon 
earth.  But,  like  the  knights  of  chivalry,  whoscorned  to  write  theii 
own  names,  and  seldom  could  even  read  a  love-letter,  these  red-skin 
paladins  were  quite  satisfied  that  military  glory  was  above  all  artistic 
merit.  They  were  but  of  the  general  opinion  of  mankind,  who  admire 
far  more  the  successful  slayer  of  thousands  than  the  man  who  can 
achieve  a  splendid  picture,  a  magnificent  epic  poem,  or  a  great  scien- 
tific discovery. 

The  shield-painting  being  over,  the  party  advanced,  still  following; 
the  banks  of  the  river  —  strictly  avoiding  all  eminences,  for  fear  of 
being  seen,  and  all  speech,  for  fear  of  being  heard.  The  way  was 
arduous  and  painful  in  the  extreme.  They  fell  upon  swampy 
marshes  and  muddy  sloughs,  in  which  they  sunk  above  their  knees. 
But  not  a  word  was  spoken,  not  a  murmur  or  complaint  given  vent 
to.  A  tall  youth  had  been  selected  as  leader  of  the  band,  and  no 
orchestra  ever  kept  better  time.  They  trod  in  each  other's  foot- 
steps with  the  most  praiseworthy  unanimity ;  and  might,  from  their 
silence,  their  gravity,  their  stiff,  erect  manner,  have  not  inaptly  been 
compared  to  moving  mummies.  The  White  Swallow  carried  in  a 
bundle  the  whole  of  their  provisions  —  no  inconsiderable  weight, 
as  they  desired  not  to  halt  an  hour  when  their  horrid  surprise  was 
effected. 

About  a  hundred  yards  from  where  they  first  caught  sight  of  the 
Esquimaux  village  they  halted  in  council  behind  some  rooks.  It 
was  now  late  at  night,  and  yet  these  savage  warriors,  not  satisfied 
with  their  martial  air,  now  began  to  paint  themselves  anew.  They 
daubed  their  faces  with  a  horrid  mixture  of  red  and  black  —  on 
one  side  with  one  color,  the  other  with  the  other ;  some  tied  their 
hair  in  knots,  others  cut  it  entirely  off.  They  then  lightened  them- 
selves of  every  possible  article  of  clothing,  which  they  made  up  in 
another  bundle,  and  gave  to  the  unfortunate  girl  to  carry. 

The  moon  now  rose :  it  was  midnight.  The  five  tents  of  the 
Esquimaux  were  situated  close  to  the  water's  edge,  within  a  half- 
moon  formed  by  some  rocks  that  projected  from  a  small  eminence. 
Before  the  tents  lay  the  placid  waters  of  the  river,  in  the  midst  of 
which  was  an  island,  or  rather  sandbank,  and  in  the  distance  another 
Esquimaux  village,  of  larger  dimensions  than  the  present.  The 
Indians  gave  an  "  Ugh"  of  delight,  for  here  was  a  second  massacre 
in  view,  and  to  these  savage  men  nothing  could  afford  a  more  charm- 
ing prospect. 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  173 


They  advanced  slowly  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  when 
within  about  twenty  yards  of  the  tents,  halted ;  and  having  tied 
the  feet  of  the  White  Swallow  in  such  a  way  as  she  could  by  no  pos- 
sibility untie  herself,  they  rushed  to  their  bloody  work.  To  modern 
readers,  even  of  the  details  of  recent  wars,  the  unpardonable  and 
horrid  details  of  the  sack  of  a  city  must  be  familiar :  man,  woman, 
and  child,  have  all  shuddered,  we  doubt  not,  over  scenes  almost  too 
fearful  for  belief —  scenes  remaining  forever  as  blots  upon  a  civil- 
ized and  so-called  Christian  age.  But  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
have  adopted  the  notions  of  certain  modern  philosophers  touching 
the  superior  amiability  and  simplicity  of  the  "  man  of  nature,"  we 
think  it  well  to  give  some  account  of  the  historical  scene  that  was 
once  acted  on  the  banks  of  the  Coppermine. 

The  Esquimaux,  on  hearing  the  wild  outcry  of  the  red-skins, 
started  from  their  sleep,  and  rushed  forth,  men  women,  and  chil- 
dren, to  escape ;  but  their  ruthless  foes  were  at  every  issue,  and 
spears  and  tomahawks  did  their  bloody  work.  The  groans  of  the 
wounded,  the  howls  of  the  dying,  the  shrieks  of  the  children,  the 
shrill  yells  of  the  women,  were  answered  by  the  Athapascow  war- 
cry.  As  the  herd  of  antelopes  loses  all  instinct  of  self-preservation 
before  the  awful  roar  of  the  African  lion,  and  stands  a  while  motion- 
less, so  these  poor  creatures  no  longer  sought  to  fly  or  defend  them- 
selves. Not  one  raised  his  arm.  Some  wretched  mothers  covered 
their  offspring  with  their  bodies  only  to  die  first.  One  young  girl, 
of  singular  beauty  for  an  Esquimaux,  caught  the  chief  round  the 
legs :  had  he  been  alone,  he  would  have  probably  saved  her,  to  take 
her  to  his  wigwam.  But  the  emulation  of  war  was  on  him ;  there 
were  his  companions  to  see  him  hesitate ;  and,  quick  as  lightning,  he 
ran  his  spear  through  her.  But  enough :  I  spare  details  more  fear- 
ful still  —  details  which  haunted  the  first  historian  and  eye-witness 
of  this  scene  all  his  after  life. 

The  White  Swallow  no  sooner  found  herself  alone,  than,  drawing 
the  knife  she  had  formerly  secreted  from  her  bosom,  she  cut  her 
bonds,  resolved  as  she  was  to  lose  no  more  time.  This  done,  she 
acted  with  all  the  coolness  and  reflection  which  became  the  affianced 
bride  of  an  Indian  warrior.  She  watched  the  red-skins  enter  the 
camp,  and  even  let  them  commence  their  massacre.  A  dozen  and 
more  dogs  darted  by,  flying  from  the  strangers.  One  of  them 
passed  close  to  the  White  Swallow,  and  smelt  her  packet  of  meat. 
She  seized  upon  a  leathern  thong  fastened  round  his  neck,  and  threw 
him  food.  The  dog  devoured  it  eagerly.  The  girl  at  once  resolved 
to  appropriate  the  animal,  for  she  knew  his  nature,  having  herself 
been  born  on  the  confines  of  the  Esquimaux  territory.    She  fastened 


180  THE  WHITE  swallow. 

on  his  back  the  bundle  belonging  to  the  Indians,  and  then  gliding 
gently  and  noiselessly  into  the  water,  began  to  swim.  The  dog 
quietly  followed  her,  attracted  by  her  store  of  provisions.  The  girl 
was  a  good  and  powerful  swimmer ;  but  she  proceeded  slowly,  though 
th»  noise  of  the  sack  of  the  village  might  have  excused  even  want  of 
caution.  But  Thee-kis-ho  was  too  much  of  an  Indian  to  neglect  any 
precautions.  Once  landed  on  the  opposite  bank,  she  lay  down  to 
watch  the  end  of  the  scene ;  at  some  distance,  however,  from  the 
shore,  and  well  screened  from  view. 

As  soon  as  the  Esquimaux  village  lay  in  the  stillness  of  death, 
and  not  even  an  infant  remained,  the  Athapascows  ran  down  to  the 
bank  to  fire  at  the  men  of  the  other  village,  who  stood  stupidly  gaz- 
ing from  across  the  water  at  the  massacre  of  their  brethren.  They 
did  not  even  stir  when  the  leaden  bullets  fell  among  them,  until  one 
of  their  party  received  a  flesh  wound,  when  all  crowded  round  him, 
examined  the  place  in  amazement,  and  then  leaping  into  their  canoes, 
hurried  to  the  distant  island,  which,  being  surrounded  by  deep  water, 
could  be  easily  defended  against  swimmers  with  hatchets  and  bows 
and  arrows. 

The  White  Swallow  waited  to  see  no  more.  The  dawn  was  now 
breaking  in  the  eastern  sky,  and  her  position  would  speedily  become 
dangerous.  Casting  her  eyes  about  her  to  select  the  best  road,  she 
distinguished,  a  little  way  up  the  river,  some  one  seated  within  a 
little  cove  fishing.  She  hesitated,  for  time  was  precious ;  but  her 
goodness  of  heart  prevailed.  Giving  the  dog  another  piece  of  meat, 
she  left  him  in  guard  of  her  packets,  and  tripped  rapidly  down  to 
the  water's  edge.  She  had  her  knife,  and  feared  no  Esquimaux. 
As  she  approached,  she  discovered  that  it  was  an  old  woman,  deaf, 
and  nearly  blind,  who  had  been  fishing  for  salmon  by  moonlight. 
The  fish  were  seven  or  eight  pounds  in  weight,  and  strewed  the  bank. 
The  old  Esquimaux  had  a  line  with  several  hooks  to  it,  and  caught 
fish  almost  as  fast  as  she  could  throw,  they  being  almost  as  plentiful 
as  in  Kamtchatka.  The  AVhite  Swallow  laid  her  hand  on  her  arm. 
The  old  woman  started.  The  young  girl,  who  knew  one  or  two 
words  of  her  language,  just  said,  "  Indians  —  kill  all  —  that  side 
—  seven  tents  on  island."  The  unfortunate  old  creature  just  caught 
the  word  "  Indians ;"  that  was  enough  for  her.  She  cast  line  and 
fish  at  the  girl's  feet,  and,  mumbling  her  thanks,  fled. 

The  White  Swallow  took  as  much  of  the  fish  as  she  could  carry, 
and  the  line  and  hooks,  almost  believing  that  the  Manitou  had  thrown 
them  expressly  in  her  way.  This  done,  she  rejoined  her  dog,  and, 
taking  him  by  the  thong,  led  him  away  as  fast  as  she  could  walk  in 
the  direction  she  presumed  to  be  the  right  one.     She  never  paused 


THE    WHITE   SWALLOW.  181 


or  halted  until  the  mid-day  sun  warmed  her  almost  more  than  waa 
pleasant.  Then  she  ate,  and  gave  food  also  to  her  dog.  He  greed- 
ily devoured  a  jSsh  weighing  eight  pounds,  and  appeared  most  affec- 
tionately disposed  to  his  new  mistress.  The  girl  made  much  of 
him,  far  more  than  he  had  been  used  to;  and  the  poor  animal,  better 
fed  and  better  lodged  than  usual,  fawned  at  her  feet  like  an  old  and 
faithful  servant. 

That  fear  renders  man,  and  woman  too,  fleet  in  their  motions,  is  a 
received  and  proverbial  tenet ;  nor  did  the  White  Swallow  differ  in 
this  from  the  rest  of  the  human  race.  She  shuddered  at  the  pros- 
pect of  falling  again  into  the  hands  of  the  Athapascow  Indians. 
She  had  seen  the  massacre  of  the  Esquimaux,  and  knew  well  what 
would  be  her  own  fate  if  caught.  No  torture  that  fiendish  revenge 
could  devise  would  be  considered  enough  to  punish  her  for  her  escape. 
On  she  went  again,  therefore,  despite  that  she  was  weary  and  sore- 
footed,  until  she  hit  about  dark  on  a  small  river,  falling,  she  sup- 
posed, into  the  Coppermine. 

Here,  under  a  bush,  she  resolved  to  pass  the  night.  She  fed  the 
dog  plentifully,  cast  her  line  into  the  river,  and  then,  without  mak- 
ing any  fire,  nestled  near  the  huge  animal,  and  went  to  sleep. 
Despite  her  dangers  and  her  fears,  Thee-kis-ho  slept  soundly,  even 
until  after  the  sun  had  long  risen.  When  she  awoke,  she  found  Esqui- 
maux, as  she  called  him,  looking  good-naturedly  at  her,  in  expecta- 
tion partly  no  doubt  of  his  morning  meal.  She  at  once  satisfied  him, 
and  found  three  fish  on  the  hooks.  But  she  herself  ate  only  the 
dried  venison  of  her  packet,  which  was  still  heavy,  for  she  had  never 
yet  eaten  raw  fish,  and  dared  not  make  fire. 


Wanderings  and  Sufferings. 

Cast  upon  her  own  resources,  without  a  man  to  advise  or  command 
her,  the  Indian  girl  had  to  perform  the  rather  unusual  task  of  hold- 
ing council  with  herself.  She  at  once  made  up  her  mind  to  intense 
sufferings  and  complicated  dangers,  though  she  had  still  doubts  of 
ultimate  success.  She  was  a  vast  distance  from  home  —  she  could 
only  guess  the  direction  ;  the  season  was  getting  advanced ;  and  if 
surprised  by  the  winter,  her  absence,  if  she  perished  not,  would  be 
of  more  than  a  year's  duration.  She  had,  it  is  true,  a  dog,  a  knife, 
and  a  fishing-line.  This  was  much.  On  the  other  hand,  she  had 
to  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  not  by  the  same  path  she  had 
come,  for  doubtless  the  Athapascows  would  lie  in  wait  for  her  some 
time  in  the  only  usual  path.     Without  arms,  without  weapons,  she 


182  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

must  provide  for  herself  and  dog.  And  yet  she  despaired  not. 
She  was  an  Indian  girl,  and  her  prairie  education  was  of  a  finished 
character. 

Her  first  thought  was  to  hurry  towards  the  mountains.  The 
stream,  near  which  she  passed  the  night,  seemed  to  trend  in  that 
direction.  The  White  Swallow  was  not  without  fear  of  being  fol- 
lowed ;  she  accordingly  swam  across,  and  left  obvious  tracks  on  the 
bank,  as  if  she  had  forded  the  river.  Then  loading  herself  and  dog, 
she  walked  in  the  water  on  a  rocky  shelf,  that  gradually  brought 
her  back  to  the  other  side.  She  then  stepped  out,  without  fear  of 
leaving  a  trail  upon  the  hard  bank.  For  two  days  did  she  advance, 
and  then  her  provisions  began  to  run  short ;  her  dog  and  herself 
consumed  a  great  deal  during  a  daily  walk  of  twelve  hours.  Thee- 
kis-ko  ordered  a  halt ;  and  while  trying  her  fortune  with  her  line  in 
a  small  lake,  sat  down  beside  the  water,  and  while  watching  the 
fishing-tackle,  began  to  construct  with  deer's  sinews,  which  formed 
a  part  of  her  dress,  and  some  hairs  from  the  dog's  tail,  those  simple 
snares  and  nets  that  produce  such  wonderful  results  in  a  country 
abounding  in  game. 

•  They  were  set  at  some  distance  as  soon  as  ready ;  and  the  next 
morning  two  wild  partridges  and  a  rabbit  rewarded  the  girl's  inge- 
nuity. These,  with  some  fish,  gave  Thee-kis-ho  the  hope  of  being 
able  to  provide  for  herself  and  canine  attendant.  The  Indian  traps 
and  snares  are  very  simple.  To  catch  some  animals,  a  trunk  of  a 
tree  is  so  arranged,  that  at  the  least  touch  it  falls,  and  kills  or 
secures  the  animal  by  its  weight.  The  partridge-traps  are,  however, 
very  ingenious.  A  small  piece  of  ground  is  partitioned  off"  with 
little  palisades  and  switches  near  a  willow-tree,  the  favorite  resort 
of  the  bird.  Some  openings  are  left  between  the  diminutive 
stockades,  and  in  these  openings  are  little  nets;  when  the  par- 
tridges come  leaping  about  in  search  of  food,  they  fail  not  to  be 
taken  in  dozens. 

Three  partridges  and  some  other  birds  rewarded  the  second  day's 
efforts  of  the  White  Swallow,  and  as  her  line  also  brought  her  fish, 
she  once  more  felt  hope.  On  the  following  morning  she  again 
started  with  renewed  vigor,  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  hills  she 
had  to  cross.  She  soon  found  herself  ascending ;  and,  according  to 
the  habits  of  her  education  in  the  wilderness,  followed  the  course 
of  a  small  torrent  in  search  of  an  opening  in  the  hills.  Her  pro- 
visions were  not  abundant,  and  both  herself  and  dog  were  placed 
upon  rigid  allowance.  The  third  day  after  her  halt  she  reached 
the  mountains,  and  began  their  ascent.  Without  path,  along  rough 
and  rugged  rocks,  her  advance  at  times  completely  barred,  forced  to 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  183 


descend  and  reascend,  resting  in  hollows  of  tke  hills,  eating  small 
and  scanty  portions  of  food,  still  the  heart  of  the  Indian  girl  never 
failed  her.  She  was  young,  full  of  hope  and  love ;  and  on  she  went, 
though  her  moccasins  were  worn  and  torn,  and  her  feet  bled  upon 
the  rocks. 

Winding,  turning,  twisting,  retreating,  it  took  her  more  than 
three  days  to  reach  the  summit  of  the  hills,  and  her  poor  pittance 
of  food  was  now  nearly  gone.  She  sat  down  on  the  arid  crest  of  a 
hill,  and  gazed  upon  the  plains  below  —  upon  those  plains  which 
contained  her  country  and  her  home.  She  saw  for  fifty  miles  the 
great  prairie  wilderness  lying  like  a  map  before  her,  with  its  rivers 
and  its  lakes,  its  eminences  and  its  levels;  and  her  heart  sunk  within 
her  as  she  felt  the  chill  blast  of  autumn  in  that  lofty  region.  Start- 
ing to  her  feet,  she  descended,  and  after  a  day's  severe  fatigue,  some- 
times walking,  sometimes  sliding,  sometimes  actually  rolling  down  a 
slope  of  the  mountain,  she  reached  the  bottom,  and  camped  in  a  lit- 
tle clump  of  pines. 

A  pool  rather  than  a  lake  was  at  hand ;  and  at  one  end  of  it  she 
fixed  her  line  and  nets,  and  at  the  other  she  and  Esquimaux  bathed 
with  delight  after  their  rude  and  continued  fatigues.  The  dog  was 
as  pleased  as  herself  to  find  himself  out  of  the  hills,  and  testified  his 
pleasure  by  rolling  like  a  mad  thing  on  the  bank,  after  he  had  for 
some  time  splashed  in  the  water.  Suddenly  Thee-kis-ho  seemed  to 
listen  attentively :  a  crackling  noise  was  heard  in  the  bushes.  She 
crouched  almost  under  water,  amid  some  tall  reeds  agitated  by  the 
evening  breeze,  dragging  the  dog  with  her.  At  the  same  instant  a 
tall  horned  deer  leaped  madly  into  the  water,  as  if  jaded  by  the 
chase  which  had  been  given  him  by  a  pack  of  hungry  wolves. 
The  White  Swallow  hesitated  not  an  instant.  She  knew  that  in 
the  water  a  wearied  deer  was  a  sure  prey.  Plunging  toward  him, 
just  as  the  dog  was  at  his  throat,  the  bold  girl,  before  the  noble 
beast  was  aware  of  his  new  danger,  had  mortally  wounded  him 
with  her  knife,  which  she  always  carried  by  her  side. 

The  unfortunate  animal  made  scarcely  any  defence,  and  was  drawn 
to  the  shore  to  die  without  a  struoi;2:le.  Thee-kis-ho  now  bethouo-ht 
herself  of  her  danger.  Death  was  certain  if  the  wolves  surprised 
her  in  any  force.  She  knew  of  but  one  remedy,  and  that  was  a 
huge  fire.  Two  flints  formed  part  of  the  Indian  baggage  which 
she  had  been  given  to  carry.  These  she  drew  from  her  bundle,  and 
taking  a  portion  of  dry  Spanish  moss  from  a  tree,  with  some  fungi 
lying  about,  she  began  striking  the  flints  together.  Few  were  the 
sparks  that  followed,  but  presently  the  moss,  which  is  very  inflam- 
mable -  -  and  which  I  have  often  used  to  light  a  fire  by  discharging 


184  TTIE    WHITE   SWALLOW. 


a  loose  wadding  from  a  gun  —  took  fire,  and,  by  waving  it  gently 
backwards  and  forwards,  a  flame  ensued.  Plenty  of  branches,  and 
even  trunks  of  trees,  lay  about ;  and  the  girl  soon  found  herself 
with  a  blazing  heap.  The  fire  was  made  in  a  cleared  nook  shel- 
tered by  trees,  and,  the  night  being  dark,  there  was  no  danger  of  the 
smoke  being  seen.  But  the  wolves  came  not ;  some  other  prey 
must  have  attracted  them,  or  they  must  have  lost  the  scent. 

Convinced  by  this,  Thee-kis-ho  let  her  fire  fall  low,  and  proceeded 
to  skin  and  cut  up  the  deer,  which,  perhaps  the  only  animal  of  the 
kind  she  had  any  chance  of  mastering,  was  a  perfect  treasure.  Flesh, 
skin,  sinews,  intestines,  bones,  all  were  valuable,  furnishing  food, 
clothing,  thread,  materials  for  snares  and  nets.  The  animal  was 
quite  dead ;  and  the  Indian  girl,  who  had  in  the  last  two  months 
learned  much,  proceeded  to  her  task  quietly.  Some  portions  were 
prepared  for  immediate  use,  the  rest  laid  aside  for  the  future. 

Though  she  had  seldom,  in  her  home  on  the  Mabasha  Water, 
assisted  in  domestic  duties,  she  had  observed,  and  knew  everything 
that  could  be  made  of  the  animal.  Tired  as  she  was,  she  scraped 
and  cleaned  the  skin,  and  rubbed  it  well  with  grease  to  soften  it. 
She  then  cooked  her  first  hot  meal  since  her  flight,  examined  her 
nets  and  line,  and,  after  amply  feeding  the  dog,  lay  down  to  rest. 
She  slept  more  than  twelve  hours,  and  rose  much  refreshed.  She 
had  now  a  large  bundle  to  carry,  and  far  to  go  with  it  ;  but  she 
abandoned  nothing.  She  loaded  herself  and  her  dog  with  the 
whole  of  the  precious  property,  and  then  once  more  she  started  on 
her  way. 

But  now  she  found  herself  in  a  maze  of  woods,  and  lakes,  and 
rivers,  but  could  not  tell  her  road.  She  was  alarmed,  for  the  season 
was  far  advanced,  and  in  that  high  latitude  winter  was  near.  Still 
she  advanced  with  courage  and  energy,  though  not  recognizing  one 
of  the  places  she  had  seen  on  coming  away  from  home. 

One  day  she  found  herself  in  a  thick  and  gloomy  wood.  She  walked 
with  her  dog  disconsolately  along  a  track  evidently  left  by  the  bufialo, 
ignorant  of  the  direction  she  was  taking,  and  lost  in  gloomy  reflections 
The  darkness  of  the  trees,  the  heavy  atmosphere,  the  weariness  of  he? 
feet  and  frame,  her  failing  hope,  had  much  changed  the  poor  girl , 
and  she  felt  by  the  wind  and  the  air,  and  she  saw  by  the  sky,  that, 
winter  was  rapidly  approaching. 

Suddenly  she  gave  a  shriek  as  she  emerged  from  the  wood  upon  a 
small,  green,  and  grassy  plot.  Before  her,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  to  the  right,  to  the  left,  in  front,  lay  the  waters  of  a  vast 
inland  sea,  dotted  here  and  there  by  small  islands.  Thee-kis-ho 
looked  anxiouslv  around ;  for  she  knew  herself  to  be  on  the  great 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  185 


Lake  of  the  Woods,  where  dwelt,  said  tradition,  a  warlike  and 
mighty  race.  But  all  was  still  save  the  waving  of  the  pine,  the 
poplar,  and  the  larch,  and  the  beating  of  the  waves  of  the  sea  upon 
the  pebbly  shore.  The  Indian  girl  stood  still,  musing.  Was  she " 
still  in  the  land  of  reality,  or  was  this  the  promised  place  to  which 
all  the  brave  and  good  went  after  death  ?  Her  hesitation  was 
momentary ;  and  then  other  thoughts  came  upon  her. 

It  was  now  impossible  to  reach  home  that  year,  and  the  heart  of 
the  White  Swallow  beat  confusedly  and  almost  despairingly  within 
her.  Should  she  live  throughout  the  severe  season,  alone,  without 
hunting  implements,  without  a  hut,  without  needful  clothing  ?  But 
even  if  she  did  get  through  the  winter,  would  she,  when  the  birds 
came  again,  and  nature  was  green  and  gay,  and  the  trees  put  on 
their  bridal  clothing,  and  the  earth  sent  forth  perfume,  and  the 
dew  hung  like  crystal  on  the  trees,  and  the  sun  danced  merrily  on 
the  waters,  and  the  flowers  awoke  from  their  sleep  —  should  she 
still  find  her  aflianced  husband  without  a  bride  ?  The  Indian  girl 
was  alone,  none  could  see  her  shame,  and  she  bowed  her  head  and 
wept. 

But  better  thoughts  soon  prevailed,  and  Thee-kis-ho  began  to  pre- 
pare for  her  long,  and  cold,  and  dreary  winter  on  the  shores  of  the 
great  Lake  of  the  Woods. 


Winter. 

The  Indian  girl  stood  like  our  first  parents  when  chased  from 
Paradise  —  homeless,  houseless,  almost  without  raiment,  food,  or 
tools,  and  with  everything  to  be  provided  by  the  labor  of  her  own 
hands.  She  began  by  walking  along  the  borders  of  the  lake,  until 
she  came  to  where  a  small  rivulet  fell  into  the  great  inland  sea,  and 
here  she  cast  her  fishing-lines,  reinforced  by  many  a  new  hook  made 
from  the  bones  of  the  deer.  Then  she  set  at  some  distance,  and  in 
various  places,  all  her  traps.  This  done,  she  thought  of  her  hut. 
A  large  tree,  the  boughs  of  which  began  to  project  at  some  distance 
from  the  ground,  was  selected  as  the  main-stay.  Against  this  the 
tallest  and  stoutest  branches  she  could  find,  with  some  drift-wood, 
were  leant,  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  tent.  Other  boughs  were  laid 
on  so  thick,  one  upon  the  other,  that  the  whole  took  the  aspect  of  a 
mere  accidental  wood-heap.  It  was  rude  and  shapeless,  but  it  was 
weatherproof,  and  that  was  enough  for  the  wants  of  a  homeless 
Indian.     Thee-kis-ho's  deer-skin  was  as  vet  her  only  bcidding,  but 


186  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 


now  that  she  had  fixed  her  abode,  she  hoped  to  succeed  better  as  a 
trapper,  and  so  add  to  the  wealth  of  her  wardrobe. 

It  was  late  at  night  when  this  her  first  and  almost  her  most 
important  task  was  completed.  But  she  stopped  not  until  it  was 
concluded.  Then  she  lay  down  to  rest  beside  her  dog,  and  took  the 
first  sleep  she  had  had  under  cover  for  nearly  three  months.  At 
dawn  she  rose  to  recommence  her  arduous  labors.  Food  must  be 
found,  prepared,  and  preserved  for  nearly  the  whole  winter,  now 
approaching  with  terrible  strides.  She  found  the  lake  full  of  fish 
and  every  moment  she  could  spare  from  setting  and  resetting  her 
traps  was  devoted  to  fishing.  While  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  a 
hard  frost,  which  she  knew  would  set  in  in  the  course  of  a  few  days, 
she  looked  about  her.  A  portion  of  the  lake  formed  a  small  pond 
off  the  rivulet,  with  an  entrance  not  five  feet  across,  and  about  two 
feet  deep.  As  soon  as  she  caught  her  fish,  which  she  did  as  fast 
as  she  could  throw  her  lines,  she  cast  them  into  this  pond,  having 
first  made  a  dam  by  throwing  branches  and  stones  into  the  narrow 
channel,  which  left  ample  passage  for  water,  but  none  for  the  escape 
of  the  trout,  pike,  and  other  large  fish  of  the  lake,  which,  like  that 
of  Athapascow,  is  renowned  for  the  abundance  and  size  of  its  finny 
inhabitants. 

Wading  in  the  water,  provided  with  a  stick,  a  rude  bark-net,  and 
her  dog,  she  could  always  re-catch  them  at  will.  Every  day,  too, 
she  added  to  the  numbers  of  rabbits,  partridges,  and  squirrels  which 
she  caught  in  her  traps ;  and,  while  roaming  about  the  woods  with 
Esquimaux,  she,  on  one  occasion,  by  his  aid,  caught  a  porcupine. 
One  day,  too,  she  hit  upon  a  small  beaver  dam,  and  captured  sev- 
eral of  these  sagacious  animals.  Presently,  however,  the  snow  began 
to  fall  in  heavy  flakes,  and  Thee-kis-ho  found  herself  in  winter.  All 
her  fish  were  at  once  taken  out  of  the  water,  and  placed  in  a  position 
where  they  were  freely  exposed  to  the  cold.  The  next  day  the  whole 
country  was  covered  with  a  thick  coat  of  snow,  and  the  fish  were 
frozen  hard. 

The  change  in  the  weather  by  no  means  changed  the  industrious 
habits  of  the  young  White  Swallow.  A  part  of  the  day  was  spent 
in  making  herself  warm  clothes  with  her  rabbit,  beaver,  and  squirrel 
skins  ;  and,  though  alone,  they  were  made  with  all  the  elegance  of 
which  she  was  capable,  for  she  was  still  a  woman.  Then  she  cast 
her  lines,  taking  care,  now  the  cold  was  come,  to  drop  them  in  deep 
places,  while  she  found  employment  every  day  for  hours  in  mend- 
ing old  and  making  new  traps.  Then  to  make  a  fire  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  she  had  not  kept  the  embers  alive  all  night,  was  a 
waste  of  time  and  labor,  for  the  moss  was  damp,  and  would  not 


TIIE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  187 


bum ;  but  Thee-kis-ho  soon  took  care  to  have  a  supply  of  tinder  in 
the  shape  of  fungi,  which  she  dried  by  a  warm  fire,  and  hung  up  in 
her  hut. 

She  had,  at  first  at  all  events,  plenty  of  food.  The  little  animals 
she  caught,  famished  and  hungry,  snapped  greedily  at  the  baits 
offered  them,  and  rarely  did  a  day  pass  without  its  due  proportion 
of  prey.  Furs  became  plentiful ;  and  as  the  cold  became  more 
severe,  the  Indian  girl  not  only  clothed  herself  with  them,  but 
made  bed-coverings,  and  lined  the  inside  of  the  tent.  Her  fire, 
despite  the  smoke,  was  made,  according  to  the  fashion  of  her  tribe, 
in  her  tent ;  the  acrid  vapor  escaping  by  a  little  opening  in  the  sum- 
mit, and  by  the  narrow  door.  A  small  fire  was  quite  sufficient  both 
for  cooking  and  warmth. 

The  next  labor  undertaken  by  the  AMiite  Swallow  was  making 
herself  a  pair  of  snow-shoes  with  which  to  take  exercise.  Without 
them  walking  became  painful.  At  one  time  she  thought  of  con- 
structing a  sledge,  and  on  setting  out  towards  the  Mabasha,  with  her 
dog  dragging  a  load  of  provisions ;  but  the  doubtful  nature  of  the 
enterprise  made  her  at  once  give  it  up,  and  resolve  on  waiting  the 
return  of  the  warm  summer  season.  From  tradition  and  report, 
she  believed  she  knew  pretty  well  her  whereabouts,  and  regarded 
the  journey  before  her  next  year  as  of  little  consequence. 

Still  the  young  girl  felt  some  desponding  emotions.  Continued 
solitude  may  have  its  charms  for  the  melancholy  and  misanthropical, 
but  the  young  and  hopeful  long  for  the  society  of  their  fellows,  and 
for  communion  with  the  world.  It  is  true  that  Thee-kis-ho  had 
both  ample  occupation  and  dumb  society ;  but  I  believe  few  young 
ladies  will  deny,  that  however  constantly  their  fingers  might  be 
employed,  and  however  faithful  a  companion  their  dog  might  be, 
they  would  pretty  nearly  always  like  the  addition  of  some  conver- 
sational associate ;  and  not  the  less  if  this  associate  were  an  agreeable 
man.  The  loving  and  faithful  Indian  girl  never  had  Matonaza  out 
of  her  thoughts  —  she  dreamed  of  him  at  night,  she  thought  of  him 
by  day,  and  during  every  occupation  found  him  present  to  her  imag- 
ination. 

At  break  of  day  she  would  rise  and  light  or  trim  her  fire,  before 
which  some  meat  or  fish  was  then  set  to  cook.  Then  she  went  down 
to  the  lake  to  look  at  her  lines,  until  such  time  as  the  edge  of  the 
water  froze  hard,  when  fishing  ceased,  for  she  had  no  nets  with 
which  to  try  her  fortune  under  the  ice.  Her  land-nets  were,  how- 
ever, always  a  source  of  employment,  and  generally  of  profit,  for  the 
winter  game  was  abundant  round  the  lake.  Then  she  returned  to 
the  hut  to  cook  her  breakfast,  and  feed  her  dog,  an  animal  now  more 


188  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 


useful  as  a  companion  tlian  as  a  servant.  This  done,  she  sat  within 
her  tent  by  a  fire  of  hot  embers,  and  near  a  narrow  loophole  admit- 
ting light,  adding  daily  to  her  wardrobe,  until  the  dead  of  winter 
arrived,  when  she  had  no  choice  but  to  take  exercise  on  her  snoAv- 
shoes,  or  to  lie  in  darkness  in  her  hut,  hermetically  closed  against 
the  air. 

Still  she  repined  not,  for  time  passed  rapidly  with  her ;  the  mid- 
die  of  winter  was  now  come,  and  every  hour  brought  her  nearer  the 
period  when,  on  the  wings  of  affection  and  hope,  she  would  hasten 
towards  the  village  of  her  youth,  her  affections,  and  her  future  joys. 
The  innocent  and  warm-hearted  girl  never  doubted  her  affianced 
husband's  truth  and  affection ;  and  if  a  suspicion  came  across  her 
that  he  might  have  found  one  to  take  her  place,  and  cause  her  to 
be  forgotten,  she  speedily  drove  such  gloomy  images  away. 

The  worst  of  the  winter  was  now  past,  but  not  the  difficulties  and 
sufferings  of  our  heroine.  During  the  bitter  cold  of  December  and 
January  she  scarcely  made  any  captures,  while  the  appetites  of  her- 
self and  her  dog  remained  always  the  same.  She  therefore  saw  her 
store  of  fish  and  frozen  game  almost  completely  consumed,  while  in 
three  days  one  solitary  bird  would  alone  reward  her  efforts.  The 
cold,  too,  was  intense ;  and  one  day,  more  damp  and  disagreeable 
than  usual,  her  hot  embers  went  out  during  the  night,  and  the  tin- 
der she  had  preserved  would  not  light. 

The  poor  girl  was  driven  to  eat  raw  and  frozen  fish,  and  to  take 
violent  exercise  on  her  snow-shoes.  That  night,  but  for  her  dog 
and  her  furs,  she  would  have  been  frozen  to  death.  Next  day 
her  efforts  were  not  more  fortunate ;  and,  seriously  alarmed  at  this 
accident,  Thee-kis-ho  was  almost  inclined  to  give  way  to  despair. 

Five  days  passed  without  fire,  and  the  Indian  girl  began  to  fear 
to  go  to  sleep  lest  a  severer  cold  than  usual  might  chill  her  limbs. 
One  morning,  after  eating  her  miserable,  cold,  and  wretched  pit- 
tance, and  endeavoring  to  get  fire  from  her  broken  flints,  the  White 
Swallow  went  out  to  walk,  when  two  startling  sights  arrested  her 
attention.  It  was  blowing  a  smart  breeze  on  the  lake,  and  yet,  in 
the  distance,  three  canoes  full  of  Indians  were  paddling  smartly,  as 
if  making  their  way  from  some  of  the  islands  of  the  centre  towards 
a  prominent  point  of  land  to  the  left.  On  this  point  there  was  a 
fire,  giving  more  smoke  than  was  usually  the  case  under  the  circum- 
stances in  the  woods.  The  White  Swallow  at  once  conjectured  that 
her  own  obscure  position  in  the  depth  of  a  bay,  and  the  fact  that 
her  fire  was  always  made  amid  very  tall  trees,  and  of  a  moderate 
Bize,  had  alone -^  together  with  the  intervention  of  an  island  pretty 


THE   WHITE    SWALLOW.  189 

thickly  wooded,  at  the  mouth  of  the  bay  —  protected  her  from  dis- 
agreeable visits. 

There  was  danger  in  the  journey,  but  Thee-kis-ho  at  once  deter- 
mined on  venturing  across  to  the  fire,  to  pick  there  some  hot  brands 
with  which  to  relight  her  own,  but  in  a  very  small  and  cautious  way. 
She  surmised  that  if  the  fire  was  made  by  persons  hostile  to  the 
party  in  the  canoe,  a  fight  and  a  chase  would  ensue,  when  her  efibrts 
would  be  practicable  enough.  Then  the  fear  came  on  her  of  leaving 
a  trail,  which  some  of  them  might  hit  upon,  and  trace  her  to  her  hut. 
This  made  her  use  extreme  caution.  She  eagerly  retreated  within 
the  shelter  of  the  new  clad  trees,  and  thence  watched. 

The  smoke  of  the  fire  became  now  very  thick,  and  the  canoes 
reached  the  land.  There  were  some  dozen  warriors  or  more,  and 
after  one  or  two  had  plunged  into  the  thicket,  to  examine,  as  she 
supposed,  what  the  foe  was,  the  rest  stood  still.  In  a  few  minutes 
they  were  called  to  join  their  companions,  in  a  way  which  showed 
that  the  fire  was  abandoned,  or  that  those  around  it  were  found. 
Then  two  men  burst  from  the  thicket,  leaped  into  the  first  canoe, 
cast  the  others  adrift,  and  paddled  away. 

A  yell,  distinctly  heard  by  the  Indian  girl,  then  arose,  and  the 
warriors  came  rushing  back.  One  of  them  easily  caught  a  canoe, 
which  had  been  checked  by  some  ice,  and  the  whole  party  again 
betook  themselves  to  the  water  in  chase  of  the  fugitives.  These 
made  for  the  island  nearest  to  the  A^Tiite  Swallow's  lonely  hut,  and 
were  speedily  lost  behind  it.  In  ten  minutes  more  the  others  were 
equally  so ;  and  Thee-kis-ho  saw  no  more. 

The  young  girl  was  now  seriously  alarmed.  She  was  in  the  very 
centre,  it  appeared,  of  some  battle-ground  of  those  who  could  not 
but  be  enemies  to  her,  and  it  would  be  a  strange  chance  if  they  did 
not  hit  upon  her  humble  dwelling,  in  which  case  all  her  efforts  and 
heroic  fortitude  would  have  availed  her  nothing :  so  she  returned  not 
to  the  Mabasha,  it  little  mattered  what  Indian  called  her  his  squaw. 
Filled  with  alarm,  and  allowing  all  kinds  of  gloomy  ideas  to  prey 
upon  her,  the  White  Swallow  returned  to  her  hut,  now  so  buried  in 
the  snow  as  to  resemble,  rather,  a  snow-heap  than  a  wigwam,  and, 
hiding  herself  under  her  fur  coverlids,  sought  to  collect  her 
thoughts.  All  her  reflections,  however,  produced  no  very  satisfac- 
tory result,  and  she  soon  fell  fiist  asleep.  Suddenly  an  angry  growl 
from-her  dog  alarmed  her :  she  awoke  with  a  violent  start ;  the  door 
of  the  hut  was  opened,  and  the  face  of  an  Indian  warrior  peered  in 
upon  the  darkness. 

The  WTiite  Swallow  lay  motionless.     She  discovered  that  it  waa 


190  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

'     — -~ — ^ — _ 1 

niglit,  and  that  tlie  moon  had  risen,  and  that  she  could  see  and  not 
be  seen.     Then  she  started  up. 

"  Matonaza  ! "  she  cried. 

"  Thee-kis-ho  !  "  replied  the  Indian. 

The  young  warrior  looked  behind  him :  no  one  was  near  :  and, 
giving  way  to  the  native  impulses  of  his  heart,  he  passionately 
embraced  his  affianced  wife.  The  dog  at  once  ceased  growling,  and 
the  lovers  were  soon  sheltered  from  the  piercing  cold  under  cover 
of  the  hut. 


The  Lover's  Search. 

Matonaza,  Mark  Dalton,  and  the  Roaming  Panther,  continued  on 
their  way  without  stopping  until  they  reached  the  scene  of  the  already 
narrated  Esquimaux  massacre.  No  one  had  approached  its  precincts 
since  the  departure  of  the  Athapascows,  and  tents  and  dead  bodies 
all  lay  in  horrid  confusion.  The  corpses  were  eagerly  examined, 
but  the  "White  Swallow  was  not  among  them.  At  all  events,  then, 
she  had  not  been  killed  in  the  fray.  This  was  a  source  of  prodigious 
relief  to  the  whole  party.  A  council  was  held,  Mark  Dalton  inclin- 
ing to  the  opinion  that  the  girl  had  been  captured  by  some  of  the 
other  Esquimaux,  while  the  chief  believed  her  to  be  returning  on 
her  way  alone.  But  should  the  idea  of  his  pale-faced  friend  bo 
correct,  it  was  necessary  to  examine  into  the  circumstance  at  once, 
as  it  was  easier  to  make  these  inquiries  now,  than  after  a  long  and 
arduous  search. 

They  accordingly  ascended  the  $ocky  eminence  above  the  huts, 
and  gazed  around.  The  seven  tents  were  before  them,  and  some 
smoke  seemed  to  evince  that  they  were  inhabited.  It  was  neces- 
sary to  cross  the  river  to  hold  communion  with  them,  but  it  was 
dangerous  to  show  themselves  in  a  way  which  might  terrify  those 
who  had  witnessed  so  dreadful  a  massacre.  It  was  agreed  that  the 
Roaming  Panther,  who  was  a  splendid  swimmer,  and  knew  a  little  of 
the  Esquimaux  dialect,  should  venture  across  alone,  and  under 
cover  of  the  unerring  rifles  of  the  two  friends.  He  accordingly 
plunged  into  the  water,  and  in  a  very  short  time  stood  upon  the 
opposite  bank  unarmed,  and  shouting  a  welcome  to  the  copper- 
colored  race. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  huts  rushed  out  in  great  alarm,  which 
subsided  when  they  saw  one  unarmed  man  before  them.  The 
Roaming  Panther  walked  into  the  middle  of  the  group,  speaking 
with  extreme  volubility,  and  pointing,  with  signs  of  horror,  to  the 


THE    WHITE   SWALLOW.  191 


scene  of  the  late  terrible  catastrophe.  The  Esquimaux  stood  round 
him  in  timid  wonder ;  but,  after  about  ten  minutes,  his  eloquence 
seemed  to  prevail,  and  one  of  the  men,  entering  a  canoe,  moved 
towards  the  two  friends.  The  savage,  it  was  quite  clear,  was  very 
uneasy  at  first,  but  he  appeared  more  tranquil  as  he  came  near  and 
distinguished  the  friendly  gestures  of  the  strangers. 

In  ten  minutes  more  the  three  wanderers  were  the  guests  of 
the  poor  northern  aborigines,  who  received  them  with  extreme  hos- 
pitality. There  could  be  little  conversation  when  the  chief  and  the 
runner  only  knew  a  few  sentences ;  but,  such  as  it  was,  it  was  wholly 
about  the  event  of  the  hour  —  the  slaughter  of  the  neighboring  fam- 
ily. IMatonaza  easily  discovered  that  the  Esquimaux  knew  their 
enemies  to  be  seven  in  number,  and  immediately  made  signs  that 
they  had  killed  three  of  them.  The  Esquimaux  looked  uneasy 
at  this  for  a  moment ;  but  reflecting,  no  doubt,  that  if  killing  was 
the  trade  of  these,  also,  they  would  have  commenced  shooting  fire 
at  them  from  the  other  side,  they  became  gradually  calmer.  Then 
the  Little  Snake  drew  the  conversation  to  a  young  girl  of  his  • 
tribe,  whom  the  Athapascows  had  stolen  away,  and  who  was  yet  not 
with  them. 

One  of  the  men  nodded  his  head,  and  pointed  to  a  half-deaf, 
half-blind  old  woman,  who  sat  in  a  corner.  Matonaza  looked  puz- 
zled, but  waited.  The  Esquimaux  bawled  in  her  ear,  and  the  hag 
began  to  mumble  something,  which  the  other  spoke  over  again  more 
dearly.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  a  young  girl,  sweet  in  speech, 
and  beautiful  as  an  angel,  had  warned  her,  whilst  fishing,  of  the 
presence  of  the  Indians,  but  had  been  no  more  seen.  This  was 
enough  for  Matonaza,  who,  after  some  further  cross-questioning,  and 
a  careful  examination  of  the  neighborhood,  discovered  that,  six  days 
before,  the  White  SwaUow  had  got  the  start  of  him  on  her  way 
home. 

But  for  ten  days  previously  they  had  pushed  on  with  such  haste, 
as  to  be  worn,  with  fatigue,  almost  to  death,  being  likewise  half- 
starved,  and  without  moccasins.  A  good  day's  rest,  and  food,  and 
new  shoes,  were  indispensable.  They  therefore  accepted,  from  the 
good-natured  Esquimaux,  a  supply  of  fish,  and  a  tent,  and  disposed 
themselves  to  eat,  rest,  and  make  shoes,  having  saved  some  deer- 
skin pieces  for  the  purpose.  It  was  only  after  a  day  and  two  nights' 
rest  that  they  felt  themselves  able  to  renew  their  journey ;  but  then 
they  started  with  energy,  strength,  and  hope.  Their  new  friends 
parted  from  them  with  good  wishes,  and  an  expression  of  regret  that 
all  red-skins  were  not  so  pacific. 

It  was  now  necessary  to  follow  the  trail  of  the  young  girl  with 


192  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 


extreme  caution.  Fortunately,  it  was  clear  and  obvious  enough  at 
^rst,  though  all  were  puzzled  about  the  animal  which  accompanied 
the  White  Swallow.  It  was  clearly  a  large  dog ;  but  how  she 
•iame  by  so  unexpected  a  friend  was  somewhat  difficult  to  conjec- 
ture. All  parties,  however,  were  soon  at  fault.  The  river  was 
reached  where  Thee-kis-ho  had  hidden  her  trail,  and  it  now  became 
requisite  to  be,  according  to  the  words  of  the  chief,  "  all  eye."  The 
Roaming  Panther  followed  one  bank  of  the  stream,  while  Mark  and 
Matonaza  followed  the  other,  for  a  long  time  in  vain.  The  bank  was 
hard  and  rocky,  or  pebbly,  and  not  a  trace  of  the  Indian  girl  was  to 
be  found. 

"  Ugh ! "  said  the  young  chief,  suddenly. 

They  were  standing  near  a  stunted  bush,  and  there,  on  the  ground, 
were  some  faint  traces  of  a  camp,  with  some  fish-bones,  abandoned  by 
the  dog.  The  party  halted,  and,  after  a  few  words  of  congratulation, 
supped  on  a  couple  of  wild  rabbits  and  a  partridge,  all  the  results  of 
the  day's  chase,  cooked  by  means  of  the  stunted  branches  and  trunk 
of  the  bush.  It  began  now  to  be  very  cold ;  and  when  the  trio  in 
their  turn  commenced  ascending  the  gully  by  which  Thee-kis-ho 
crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the  blast  blew  chill  and  keen.  Here, 
too,  in  these  stony  hills,  they  lost  all  trace  of  the  girl. 

From  that  hour,  indeed,  the  trail  was  wholly  lost  to  them.  So 
much  time  was  consumed  in  hunting  for  it,  in  looking  for  provisions, 
and  in  roaming  hither  and  thither,  that  the  snow  overtook  them 
before  they  had  passed  the  lake  where  the  young  girl  had  killed  the 
deer.  It  became  almost  useless  to  proceed,  and  yet  the  chief  resolved 
on  continuing  the  search.  A  hut  was  erected,  a  fire  made,  and  then 
the  three  men  parted  in  search  of  game  —  one  remaining  near  the 
camp  on  the  look-out  for  small  birds,  the  others  going  hither  and 
thither,  in  the  hope  of  falling  on  more  noble  prey.  This  was  done 
for  a  week,  during  which,  right  and  left,  every  place  where  a  hut 
could  be  hid  was  examined :  then  the  camp  was  moved  a  few  miles 
further  south,  and  the  same  plan  resumed. 

This  was  continued  with  various  fortune  for  some  time,  until  one 
day  they  found  themselves  camped  near  a  large  wood  without  pro- 
visions, weary,  hungry,  and  cold.  A  council  was  held,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  Mark  and  the  Roaming  Panther  on  the  one  hand,  and 
Matonaza  on  the  other,  should  start  once  more  in  chase  of  elk  and 
bufialo,  and  that  the  first  that  met  with  good  fortune  should  give 
the  other  notice. 

Matonaza  moved  about  in  various  directions  in  moody  silence. 
The  young  chief  had,  in  his  own  mind,  given  up  all  hope  of  finding 
the  beloved  White  Swallow,  whom  he  imagined  the  prey  of  some 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  198 

savage  wild  beast,  or  of  Indians  as  ruthless.  He  moved  along, 
brooding  on  revenge,  on  some  terrible  and  sudden  foray  into  the 
land  of  the  Athapascows,  and  yet  his  eye  was  cast  about  in  search 
of  game.  Presently  the  forest  grew  less  dense,  and  the  young 
chief  soon  found  himself  in  the  open  air  beside  the  vast  lake  already 
alluded  to.  The  warrior  paused,  for  never  had  he  seen  waters  so 
vast.  He  gazed  curiously  around,  and  then  followed  the  banks  for 
some  time  :  but  all  in  vain ;  not  a  trace  of  game  did  he  find. 
Weary  and  hungry,  he  turned  his  steps  back  towards  the  camp,  and 
reached  the  spot  where  he  had  first  come  out  upon  the  lake.  He 
passed  it,  and  pursued  his  way  still  further  along  the  shore,  which 
was  frozen  hard  as  far  out  as  the  water  was  shallow. 

The  Indian  now  came  in  sight  of  the  fire  seen  by  Thee-kis-ho  in 
the  morning,  hitherto  masked  from  his  view  by  the  island  already 
alluded  to.  He  knew  this  to  be  the  signal  given  by  his  friends  that 
they  had  found  game,  and  hurried  his  steps.  Suddenly  he  halted. 
A  rabbit  in  its  milk-white  winter  coat  lay  struggling  at  his  feet,  and 
yet  not  running  away.  The  animal  was  caught  in  a  snare  made  by 
human  hands.  The  chief  bounded  like  a  stricken  deer ;  his  eyes 
flashed ;  and  then,  after  killing  the  animal,  and  casting  it  over  his 
shoulder,  he  began  moving  along  the  bank.  Another  and  another 
snare  fell  under  his  notice,  and  then  steps  in  the  snow  —  those  of  a 
woman  and  a  dog  —  steps  of  that  day,  of  that  hour ! 

Matonaza  stood  for  an  instant  leaning  on  his  rifle ;  for,  though  an 
Indian  and  a  warrior,  he  was  a  man,  and  young.  He  was  not  insen- 
sible to  gentle  emotions,  and  he  loved  the  girl  with  all  the  warmth  of 
a  generous  and  unsophisticated  heart  that  had  never  loved  before. 
Then  he  looked  around,  his  eyes  glaring  like  those  of  the  tiger  about 
to  spring ;  and  he  caught  sight  of  the  hut,  or  rather  of  the  snow-pile 
which  hid  it.  The  door  was  clearly  defined.  He  stood  by  it,  he 
raised  it :  the  rest  has  been  already  told. 


Strange  Events. 

Jb'or  some  quarter  of  an  hour  they  gave  themselves  up  to  the  joy 
of  this  unexpected  and  happy  meeting.  The  warrior  then  listen^ 
with  charmed  ears  to  the  recital  of  the  events  which  had  preceded 
the  arrival  of  the  White  Swallow  at  her  winter  camp.  Surprise, 
pride,  and  satisfaction,  filled  the  young  man's  heart,  as  each  day's 
adventure  showed  how  admirably  the  girl  had  conducted  herself,  and 
how  fit  she  was  to  be  the  bride  of  a  chief  ,  She  spoke  briefly,  but 
clearly,  and  the  event  of  the  day  soon  formed  the  topic  of  disooonw. 
13 


194  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

When  Thee-kls-ho  spoke  of  the  flight  of  two  men  from  the  fire,  Ma- 
tonaza  became  much  moved. 

"  My  friends  are  prisoners,"  he  said  gravely,  and  then  bade  her 
go  on. 

But  the  White  Swallow  ceased  speaking,  and  waited  to  hear  the 
narrative  of  her  future  lord  and  master. 

The  young  chief  reflected  a  moment,  and  asked  for  something 
to  eat.  But  the  girl  had  nothing  but  raw  fish  and  the  rabbit,  and 
no  fire. 

"  Ugh ! "  exclaimed  Matonaza,  as  he  heard  that  she  had  had  no 
fire  for  five  or  six  days ;  "  let  us  go." 

The  White  Swallow  rose,  took  a  good  supply  of  fish,  with  the 
rabbit,  and  followed  the  Little  Snake,  who  led  the  way  through  the 
wood  towards  the  camp  where  he  had  left  his  companions.  All  was 
calm  and  still.  The  lake,  which  had  been  agitated,  was  quiescent, 
and  the  wind  had  fallen.  A  quarter  of  an  hour's  quick  walking 
through  the  forest  brought  them  in  sight  of  the  fire.  It  remained 
untouched,  as  also  the  hut  of  boughs  and  fallen  trunks  that  had  been 
erected  on  the  previous  night.  They  at  once  drew  the  half-scat- 
tered embers  together,  and  a  few  upright  and  transversed  sticks 
served  as  a  gridiron  for  the  fish.  The  rabbit  was  also  put  to  roast. 
No  alarm  was  expected  but  from  the  lake ;  and  an  occasional  glance 
at  the  water,  by  a  walk  of  a  dozen  yards  with  the  dog,  rendered  a 
surprise  unlikely.  An  elk,  and  the  guns  of  both  Mark  and  the  Roam- 
ing Panther,  were  found  in  the  hut.  The  enemy  had  followed  them 
so  rapidly,  they  had  no  time  to  inquire  into  the  spoil  which  might  be 
found  in  the  camp. 

Matonaza  gazed  with  speaking  eye  and  afiectionate  mien  at  the 
young  girl  as  she  moved  about  preparing  their  meal.  He  smiled 
grimly  as  she  ofiered  him  the  meat  when  ready,  without  ofiering  to 
take  any  herself.  But  he  drew  her  on  to  the  log  beside  him,  and 
bade  her  eat.  The  White  Swallow  laughingly  obeyed,  and  they 
ate  together.  It  was  the  sweetest  repast  either  had  tasted  for 
many  a  long  day.  When  they  had  done,  it  was  pitchy  dark,  and 
the  young  warrior  at  once  went  down  to  the  shore,  and  in  the  cold, 
and  ice,  and  snow,  began  to  make  a  raft.  Plenty  of  logs,  and 
boughs,  and  withes  were  to  be  found ;  and  in  an  hour  Indian 
ingenuity  had  succeeded  in  manufacturing  a  very  solid  construc- 
tion. Then  both  stepped  into  it,  with  the  three  guns,  leaving  the 
dog  behind. 

The  chief  turned  the  somewhat  awkward  vessel  towards  the  island 
pointed  out  by  his  dusky  bride,  and  both  propelled  it,  as  best  they 
oould,  with  sticks  as  much  like  paddles  as  they  could  find.   They  made 


THE   WHITE   SWALLOW.  195 


for  the  side  towards  the  hut  of  the  young  girl,  which  was  rocky  and 
precipitous,  and  therefore  safest.  Their  progress  was  extremely  slow. 
No  light  of  any  kind  was  there  to  guide  them.  The  island  loomed  up 
in  the  distance  against  the  sky,  and  not  a  sign  of  life  could  be  seen 
upon  it. 

At  last  it  was  reached,  and  the  slender  bark  grated  on  the  shore. 
The  pair  leaped  on  the  ice,  and  drew  the  raft  so  far  after  them  as 
at  least  to  prevent  its  floating  off.  They  then  took  the  rifles,  and 
gained  the  land.  They  found  themselves  at  the  foot  of  lofty  rocks, 
from  which  hung  thick  and  large  trees  that  half-concealed  their 
height.  The  ascent  was  rugged,  but  not  impossible ;  and,  by  feeling 
their  way  with  extreme  caution,  they  at  last  reached  the  summit. 
The  wood  was  here  dense  in  the  extreme,  and  so  mixed  up  with 
brushwood,  as  to  oblige  them  to  take  great  care  as  they  advanced 
with  the  rifles.  They  pushed  their  way  through,  however,  a  little 
further,  and  then  suddenly  halted. 

They  were  within  a  few  yards  of  an  extensive  Indian  camp. 

The  centre  of  the  island  was  a  large  and  deep  hollow,  used  from 
time  immemorial  as  the  winter  residence  of  the  tribe  which  now 
occupied  it.  About  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  long,  by  sixty 
broad,  it  contained  thirty  large  huts,  or  wigwams,  so  arranged 
as  to  leave  a  considerable  space  in  the  centre.  It  was,  perhaps, 
a  dozen  yards  deep,  and  so  overhung  by  trees,  that  whatever  fire 
was  made  —  and  the  Indians  rarely  make  more  than  is  necessary 
—  never  could  be  discovered  by  the  smoke,  which,  rising  in  small 
columns,  was  swept  by  the  currents  of  air  among  the  dense  foli- 
age, to  escape  in  such  light  vapors  as  were  imperceptible.  A 
large  fire  was  now  made,  however,  beside  a  rock,  close  below  where 
the  astonished  pair  stood.  Round  this  were,  perhaps,  forty  dark 
and  fierce-looking  warriors.  The  women  stood  in  groups  near  the 
huts  whispering. 

But  the  captives  were  what  they  chiefly  sought ;  and  these  were 
goon  distinguished  in  the  very  centre  of  the  council  of  the  tribe. 

A  debate  was  going  on,  to  which  neither  Mark  Dalton  nor  the 
Roaming  Panther  seemed  to  pay  any  attention.  They  were  on  a 
log  by  themselves,  and  spoke  in  whispers. 

"  Listen  !  "  said  Matonaza,  crouching  down  beside  his  bride  in 
such  a  position  as  to  see  and  hear  all  that  passed,  while  he  was  at 
the  summit  of  a  path  which  led  down  to  the  fire. 

Various  opinions  had  apparently  been  uttered  before  their  arri- 
val. The  last  speaker,  a  fat,  luxurious,  greasy-looking  warrior, 
with  a  nose  and  eye  that  spoke  of  the  rum  of  the  Yengeese,  was, 
when  they  first  listened,  doing  battle  for  the  protection  of  the 


196  THE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

white  man's  scalp.  He  urged  the  fact,  that  if  he  were  taken  to 
the  nearest  fort  in  the  spring,  they  would  be  amply  repaid  for 
their  trouble,  and  receive  both  powder,  ball,  and  shot,  in  abundance, 
with  plenty  of  fire-water,  that  made  a  poor  Indian's  heart  glad. 
As  for  the  red-skin,  his  tribe  could  spare  him ;  besides,  he  was  of 
no  value.  Let  them  take  his  scalp.  A  few  applauded,  but  the  rest 
murmured  loudly,  for  the  speaker  was  a  notorious  drunkard ;  and 
the  red-skins,  even  those  who  occasionally  give  way  to  the  suicidal 
madness  of  drink  —  the  worst  suicide,  because  of  mind  and  body  — 
despise  an  habitual  sot. 

Then  up  rose  a  warrior  in  the  very  prime  of  his  days.  He 
was  about  five-and-forty,  handsome,  well-made,  tall,  and  of  grave 
and  rather  melancholy  mien.  It  was  the  Lightning- Arm,  the 
renowned  warrior,  who,  taken  prisoner  by  the  English,  had  resisted 
all  the  temptations  which  ruined  his  fellows.  He  was  the  bravest, 
the  wisest,  the  ablest  chief  of  that  day ;  and  his  renown  was  uni- 
versal. So  was  his  terrible  cruelty,  in  putting  to  death  all  the  white 
men,  Dog-ribbed,  and  other  north-western  Indians,  who  fell  in  his 
way.     This  was  his  oration  :  — 

"  It  is  fifteen  summers  ago.  The  Lightning- Arm  lived  with  his 
people  on  the  borders  of  the  Little  Bear  River.  There  was  plenty 
of  deer  in  the  woods,  and  fish  in  the  river,  and  the  beavers  were 
kind  ;  they  knew  that  their  Indian  brothers  were  poor,  and  plenty 
were  found.  The  Lightning-Arm  was  happy.  He  stood  like  a 
tall  pine  in  the  midst  of  a  wood,  and  every  warrior  called  him 
chief.  Yes ;  the  Lightning- Arm  was  very  happy.  A  little  bird 
sang  in  the  woods,  the  loveliest  girl  of  the  Great  Athapascow  tribe, 
and  the  little  bird  sang  beside  the  tall  pine.  Lightning-Arm 
called  the  Wild  Rose  his  squaw.  One  pappoose  was  in  his  wigwam, 
and  it  laughed  in  its  father's  face,  and  Lightning- Arm  was  very 
happy.  He  wa.s  a  great  warrior ;  his  wife  was  pretty  and  good ; 
he  had  a  child  lovely  as  the  flowers  of  the  prairie  in  spring. 
Lightning- Arm  was  very  happy.  Then  came  the  Pale  Face  tra- 
ders, and  bought  all  the  red-skins'  furs,  and  gave  the  foolish  Indians 
fire-water.  The  traders  went  away,  and  the  Indians  were  beasts : 
the  fire-water  was  in  their  eyes,  they  could  not  see ;  the  fire-water 
was  in  their  ears,  and  they  could  not  hear ;  the  fire-water  was  in 
their  heads,  they  could  not  watch.  But  wolves  were  in  the  woods, 
who  knew  that  the  Great  Athapascows  were  as  hogs,  and  they 
came  down  upon  the  camp.  The  Lightning-Arm  had  gone  to 
show  the  traders  how  to  hunt.  The  wolves  slew  all  the  warriors, 
who  woke  no  more ;  they  killed  the  Wild  Rose,  and  they  stole 
her  child.     Lightning- Arm  came  bounding  home :  he  listened  for 


THE    WHITE    SWALLOW.  197 

two  laughs  —  one  very  loud  and  clear,  and  one  very  little,  bul 
very  sweet.  The  Lightning-Arm  was  alone,  the  tall  pine  stood 
naked  on  a  stony  plain.  Let  them  die  —  the  white  man  for  his 
fire-water,  the  red-skin  for  his  blood  !  He  is  a  Dog-ribbed  cur.  I 
have  spoken ! " 

And  the  warrior  drew  his  tomahawk,  and  awaited  the  words  of 
his  companions,  eager  to  give  the  signal  for  the  torments  which 
were  once  more  to  glut  his  revenge.  His  hate  for  the  Pale  Faces, 
whose  drink  had  caused  the  camp  to  be  surprised,  and  for  the 
member  of  a  tribe  suspected  of  the  foray,  might  be  seen  in  every 
lineament.  The  whole  circle  of  warriors  applauded,  and  were  about 
to  rise,  when  the  Little  Sriake  and  the  White  Swallow  stood  in 
their  midst. 

"  My  father  is  very  sorry  for  the  death  of  his  squaw,"  said  Ma- 
tonaza  with  profound  respect  for  the  other's  grief,  "  and  his  eyes 
are  dim.  But  his  eyes  are  open  now  ;  does  he  know  again  a  little 
face  he  saw  fifteen  summers  ago  ?  His  ears  are  very  sharp,  the  girl 
will  laugh,  and  her  father  will  know  her  again  !  " 

The  Indians  moved  not,  though  their  favorite  "  ugh "  escaped 
every  throat,  while  the  Lightning-Arm  listened  with  undisguised 
astonishment. 

"  My  brother  is  young,"  he  said,  quickly  recovering  himself, 
"  and  would  save  his  friends  ;  he  gives  an  old  warrior  a  young  squaw 
for  a  little  pappoose." 

"  Matonaza  is  no  liar,"  replied  the  other,  solemnly.  "  His  father 
led  the  foray  against  the  Great  xVthapascows ;  he  took  away  a  little 
pappoose  for  a  squaw  for  his  boy.     There  she  stands  —  see !  " 

And  the  young  chief  held  out  his  hand,  and  took  from  the 
breast  of  the  White  Swallow  one  of  those  charmed  bags  given  by 
the  medicine  men  to  preserve  children  against  evil  spirits,  and 
which,  found  on  the  neck  of  the  girl,  had  been  left  there,  all  fear 
ing  to  touch  an  amulet  which,  in  their  eyes,  had  secret  powers. 
The  older  chief  took  a  pine-knot,  and  held  it  towards  the  face  of  the 
young  girl,  examining  at  the  same  time,  by  an  imperceptible  glance, 
the  little  bag.  Matonaza  saw  the  Lightning- Arm  start,  and  then 
discovered,  by  the  working  of  his  face  and  clenched  hands,  how 
intense  was  the  struggle  between  his  Indian  stoicism,  and  the  pent- 
up  feelings  of  fifteen  years. 

"  My  old  eyes  were  dim,  and  I  could  not  see  my  friends,"  said 
the  father,  in  tones  which  no  art,  not  even  that  of  man's  iron  reso 
lution,  could  make  firm.     "You  are  welcome  —  ye  have  brought 
back  my  child !  " 


198  rHE   WHITE   SWALLOW. 

The  three  companions  became  at  once  the  centre  of  a  friendly 
and  delighted  group,  who  crowded  round  the  men,  with  exquisite 
delicacy  contriving  to  let  the  father  slip  away  with  his  child,  with- 
out attracting  attention  to  this  act,  rather  too  full  of  nature  and 
feeling  to  suit  Indian  customs.  But,  once  out  of  sight,  the  chief 
raised  the  girl  in  his  arms,  and,  running  under  the  trees,  reached 
an  empty  wigwam  at  the  end  of  the  village.  A  pine-knot,  full 
of  rosin,  illuminated  the  place.  He  set  the  White  Swallow  down 
upon  a  mat,  and  looked  at  her.  Every  feature,  every  expression 
—  mouth,  nose,  eyes,  hair  —  all  were  those  of  the  mother,  not 
older  than  she  was  when  killed.  The  warrior  shook  like  a  palsied 
man  with  emotion,  and  then  clasped  the  girl  wildly  to  him.  She 
laughed  faintly,  bewildered  as  she  was,  and  the  man  almost 
shrieked.  His  ears  had  not  heard  that  laugh  for  fifteen  years, 
and  yet,  it  had  thrilled  in  his  heart  every  hour ;  for  the  chief 
had  idolized  his  beautiful  wife,  and  she  came  to  him  nightly  from 
the  Happy  Hunting-ground  in  the  visions  of  his  sleep.  It  was  an 
hour  before  the  Lightning- Arm  was  sufficiently  composed  to  rejoin 
his  fellows  and  the  astounded  women.  He  found  a  feast  prepared 
to  celebrate  the  happy  occasion.  All  joined  heartily  in  it.  Mark 
and  the  Roaming  Panther,  who  had  been  expecting  death  for 
hours,  ate  none  the  less  heartily ;  while  the  old  chief,  throwing 
aside  all  his  rigidity  on  this  festive  occasion,  made  the  women 
join  the  feast,  and  placed  the  White  Swallow  by  his  side.  Even 
the  roughest  warriors  smiled  grimly  as  they  saw  him  watching  every 
mouthful  she  ate,  giving  her  the  choicest  morsels,  and  touching 
nothing;  himself. 

Matonaza  looked  gravely,  sadly  on.  He  had  saved  his  friends, 
he  had  found  the  girl  a  father,  he  had  gladdened  the  heart  of  a 
widowed,  childless  chief,  but  he  had  lost  a  wife.  It  was,  there- 
fore, with  unusual  gravity  that  he  rose  to  narrate  the  circumstan- 
ces under  which  the  parties  had  met.  His  narrative,  the  history 
of  a  year,  was  the  work  of  two  hours'  speaking,  during  which  tho 
young  chief  showed  all  that  consummate  oratorical  art  which  be- 
longs to  some  of  the  Indians  —  art  that,  if  aided  by  the  advantages 
of  education,  would  astound  some  civilized  audiences.  He  spoke 
little  of  himself,  much  of  the  White  Swallow,  and  told  his  story 
in  all  its  details.  The  Great  xlthapascows  —  a  distinct  tribe  from 
the  Little  Athapascows,  the  ravishers  of  the  girl  —  listened  with 
unfeigned  astonishment  and  breathless  interest.  The  whole  story 
delighted  all,  and  none  more  than  the  father.  A  loud  mur- 
mur of  applause  and  a  huge  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke  greeted  its 
conclusion. 


THE    WHITE   SWALLOW.  199 

"My  brother  is  very  wise  —  a  young  arm,  an  old  head!  The 
Lightning- Arm  sees  a  long  way.  The  Little  Snake  has  said  noth- 
ing, but  his  eyes  are  not  silent.  He  would  like  to  hear  the  White 
Swallow  laugh  in  his  wigwam  !  " 

^e  young  man  at  once  warmly  stated  his  case,  his  affection,  his 
abandonment  of  all  to  seek  her. 

"And  the  White  Swallow? "  asked  the  father,  quite  tenderly  for 
an  Indian. 

"  Matonaza  is  a  great  chief,  and  the  White  Swallow  will  be  hia 
squaw ! " 

The  thing  was  at  once  settled.  It  was  agreed  that  in  the  spring 
the  whole  party  should  move  towards  the  5labasha,  to  wait  during 
the  summer,  when  it  was  proposed  the  two  tribes  should  unite. 
Matonaza  answered  for  his  people,  who  were  too  weak  to  stand 
alone,  and  the  Great  Athapascows  willingly  agreed  to  accept  them. 
The  party  then  retired  to  rest.  Early  on  the  following  morning 
the  White  Swallow  fetched  her  dog,  while  the  whole  village  visited 
her  solitary  hut,  which  had  escaped  their  notice  only  because  they 
seldom  hunted  or  fished  in  the  winter  months,  passing  them  in  their 
wigwams.  Two  days  later,  the  wedding-feast  took  place  amid  uni- 
versal rejoicings.  Never  was  a  happier  party.  The  father  was  a 
changed  man.  He  mourned  the  early  dead ;  but  he  rejoiced  over 
the  recovered  child,  and  was  doubly  pleased  at  seeing  her  doubly 
happy  —  finding  a  lost  husband  and  an  unknown  father  on  the  same 
day.  The  Roaming  Panther  carried  the  news  to  the  small  camp 
on  the  Mabasha ;  and  in  May  the  junction  took  place.  Mark  Dal- 
ton  hunted  with  them  all  the  summer ;  and  when  he  left  them  in 
the  autumn,  it  was  with  regret  ^ 

Neither  the  Lightning- Arm  nor  Matonaza  ever  joined  in  or 
encouraged  any  of  the  wars  and  forays  of  their  race.  They  had 
sufiered  too  much  from  them.  The  old  chief  ruled  the  counsels 
of  his  people  for  years,  and  led  them  to  victory  every  time  they 
were  attacked.  He  lived  to  see  children  again,  and  to  watch  them 
grow  up  to  manhood.  He  became  their  instructor  and  teacher. 
A  devoted  and  earnest  friendship  took  place  between  the  father 
and  the  son-in-law ;  and,  in  memory  of  the  past,  the  White  Swal- 
low enjoyed  a  much  happier  fate  than  most  Indian  women.  The 
chief  never  took  another  squaw :  she  was  his  first  and  his  last ; 
and  ten  years  after  they  parted,  when  travelling  on  a  mission, 
Mark  Dalton,  now  governor  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  found 
his  friends  as  happy  as  when  he  left  them  so  long  a  time  before. 


100 


TH£    WHITE    SWALLOW. 


They  talked  over  their  adventures  once  again,  and  forgot  not  one 
detail ;  and  in  after-life,  when  speaking  of  his  Indian  experiences, 
and  admitting  all  the  terror  and  rudeness  of  savage  life,  Mark 
Dalton  had  always,  by  way  of  contrast,  his  story  to  tell  of  the  "Wiiite 
Swallow  of  Mabasha  Lake. 


nm,im  m  faeoi  anb  Shetland. 


HESE  two  groups  of  islands,  situated 
in  the  northern  Atlantic,  and  sep- 
arated by  only  about  one  hundred 
and  eighty  miles,  are  not  more  con- 
trasted in  their  political  position 
and  internal  economy,  than  in  their  geological  structure,  and  conse- 
quent dissimilarity  of  scenery ;  though,  from  having  been  originally 
peopled  by  the  same  Scandinavian  race,  and  long  under  one  goverur 
ment,  there  are  still  to  be  discovered  numerous  traces  of  similar 
language,  manners,  and  even  personal  appearance. 

While  Shetland  is  an  integral  portion  of  the  home  British  empire, 
partieip^ing  in  her  enlightened  laws  and  policy,  her  freedom  and 
progress  in  improvement,  together  with  the  good,  and  also,  alas !  evil, 
more  or  less  attendant  on  our  peculiar  institutions,  Faroe,  as  respects 
manners  and  state  of  society,  is  in  much  the  same  condition  as  it  has 
been  for  a  century  past  at  least,  or  as  Shetland  was  at  that  distance 

«^  ^^'  (201) 


202  FOWLING    IN    FAROE   AND    SHETLAND. 

Faroe  belongs  to  fhe  Danisli  crown,  is  governed  by  its  absolute, 
though  mild  and  paternal  rule,  and  is  subject  to  a  royal  monopoly 
of  all  commerce  and  other  resources.  From  analogy  and  observa- 
tion, however,  we  are  disposed  to  the  opinion,  that,  for  a  half- 
instructed,  isolated,  and  pastoral  people,  the  Faroese  appear  to  be, 
at  present,  in  precisely  the  circumstances  most  conducive  to  their 
morality,  independence,  and  happiness. 

The  geological  formation  of  the  Faroe  Isles  is  of  volcanic  origin ; 
hence  their  splendid  basaltic  columns  and  conical  hills,  deep  valleys 
and  mural  precipices,  narrow  fiords  and  rushing  tides.  The  shores 
are  so  steep,  that,  in  many  of  the  islands,  there  is  no  convenient  land- 
ing-place. Boats  are  drawn  up  precipitous  banks  by  ropes  and  pul- 
leys ;  and  a  ship  of  large  burthen  may  lie  close  to  a  wall  of  rock, 
from  one  to  two  thousand  feet  in  height  on  either  side,  where  the 
strait  between  is  so  narrow,  that  she  can  only  be  towed  or  warped 
onwards  or  outwards  as  alongside  a  wharf.  In  some  situations  the 
cliffs  present  stupendous  basaltic  pillars,  to  which  those  of  Stafife 
and  the  Giant's  Causeway  are  pigmies.  More  commonly  the  preci- 
pices are  broken  into  narrow  terraces,  overhanging  crags,  and  gloomy 
recesses,  tenanted  by  myriads  of  sea-fowl  of  every  name,  whose  inces- 
sant motions,  and  shrill  echoing  cries,  give  variety  and  animation  to 
scenes  otherwise  desolate  in  their  sublimity. 

Among  these  dizzy  and  almost  confounding  scenes,  the  fowler  pur- 
sues his  hazardous,  but  familiar  avocation ;  for  the  eggs  and  flesh  of 
the  sea-fowl  are  an  important  part  of  the  food  of  the  Faroese,  and  the 
feathers  a  profitable  article  of  exportation.  Little  thinks  many  a  dis- 
contented town-bred  workman,  or  surly  field  laborer,  and  still  less 
many  a  fashionable  ennuyee,  with  what  cheeriness  and  courage  num- 
bers of  their  fellow-creatures  encounter,  not  merely  fatiguing  toil, 
but  frightful  danger,  while  in  quest  of  their  daily  bread ! 

The  manner  of  performing  the  perilous  task  of  taking  the  birds 
from  the  precipices  is  thus  described  :  "  The  fowler  (fuglemand)  is 
let  down  from  the  top  of  the  cliff  by  a  rope,  about  three  inches  thick, 
which  is  fastened  to  the  waist  and  thighs  by  a  broad  woollen  band, 
on  which  he  sits.  The  adventurer  soon  loses  sight  of  his  companions, 
and  can  only  communicate  with  them  by  a  small  line  attached  to  his 
body.  When  he  reaches  the  terraces,  often  not  more  than  a  foot 
broad,  he  frees  himself  from  the  rope,  attaches  it  to  a  stone,  and  con> 
mences  his  pursuit  of  the  feathery  natives.  Where  the  nests  are  in  a 
hollow  of  the  rock,  the  bird-catcher  gives  himself  a  swinging  motion, 
by  means  of  his  pole,  till  the  vibration  carries  him  so  close,  that  he 
can  get  footing  on  the  rock.  He  can  communicate  to  himself  a  swing 
c/'  thirty  to  forty  feet ;  but  when  the  shelf  lies  deeper  back,  another 


FOWLING   IN.  FAROE   AND    SHETLAND.  203 

rope  is  let  down  to  his  associates  in  a  boat,  who  can  thus  give  him  a 
swing  of  one  hundred,  or  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet."  The  Faroese 
talk  with  rapture  of  their  sensations  while  thus  suspended  between 
sea  and  sky,  swinging  to  and  fro  by  what  would  seem  a  frail  link 
when  the  value  of  a  human  life  is  concerned.  Nay,  so  fascinating  is 
this  uncouth  occupation,  that  there  are  individuals,  who,  provided 
with  a  small  supply  of  food,  cause  themselves  to  be  lowered  to  some 
recess,  where  the  overhanging  cliff  gives  shelter  from  above,  and  a 
platform  of  a  few  square  feet  scarce  affords  sufficient  resting-place  ; 
and  here,  sometimes  for  a  fortnight,  and  even  three  weeks  together, 
will  the  adventurer  remain  alone,  scrambling  from  crag  to  crag,  col- 
lecting birds  from  the  nests,  or  catching  them  as  they  fly  past  him 
with  his  fowling-pole  and  net,  till  he  has  filled  his  bags  with  their 
slaughtered  bodies  or  their  feathers.  We  cannot  imagine  a  more 
wildly-sublime  locality  for  the  restless  energy  of  man  to  choose  as  a 
temporary  sojourning  place.  The  ceaseless,  discordant  scream  of  the 
birds,  no  doubt  amazed  at  the  dauntless  intruder  on  their  haunts,  the 
roar  of  the  surf,  and  the  wailing  of  the  wind  among  the  rocks  and 
crevices,  might  combine  well-nigh  to  deafen  any  unaccustomed  ears. 
Moreover,  there  is  the  danger,  the  awe-inspiring  scenery,  the  solitude ; 
yet  several  persons  have  averred  to  our  informant  that  in  such  a 
unique  position  they  have  spent  absolutely  their  happiest  days ! 

In  Faroe  the  story  is  related,  which  is  also  said  to  have  occurred 
at  St.  Kilda,  Foula,  and  Skye,  of  a  father  and  son  having  been  low- 
ered at  once,  the  one  above  the  other,  on  a  fowling  expedition,  by  the 
usual  rope ;  that,  on  beginning  to  ascend,  they  perceived  two  of  the 
three  cords  of  which  it  was  composed  had  been  cut  by  the  abrasion 
of  the  rocks,  and  could  not  sustain  the  weight  of  more  than  one  of 
them ;  and  how,  after  a  short,  but  anguished  contention,  the  father 
prevailed  on  the  son  to  cut  him  off,  and  thus  sacrifice  his  parent's 
life  as  the  only  chance  of  saving  his  own. 

A  far  more  instructive  and  thrilling  anecdote,  which,  so  far  as  we 
know,  has  not  appeared  in  print,  was  told  our  informant  in  Faroe  by 
a  member  of  the  young  man's  family  to  whom  it  occurred. 

We  have  said  that  the  fowlers  are  lowered  fi'om  above,  and  man 
age  to  get  stationed  on  some  shelf,  or  ledge  of  rock,  frequently 
beneath  an  overhanging  crag,  where  they  disengage  themselves  from 
the  rope,  and  proceed  to  their  employment.  Now  it  unfortunately 
happened,  that  the  young  man  we  have  alluded  to,  having  secured 
his  footing  on  the  flat  rock,  by  some  accident  lost  his  hold  of  the 
rope,  to  which  was  also  attached  his  single-line,  which  he  had  the 
agony  to  see,  after  h  few  pendulous  swings,  settle,  perpendicularly, 
utterly  beyond  his  reach.     When  the  first  moments  of  surprise  aid 


204  FOWLING   IN    FAROE   AND    SHETLAND. 

nearly  mortal  anguisli  liad  elapsed,  lie  sat  down  to  consider,  as 
calmly  as  might  be,  what  he  should  do,  what  eflFort  make  to  save 
himself  from  the  appalling  fate  of  perishing  by  inches  on  that  miser- 
able spot.  His  friends  above,  he  knew,  after  waiting  the  usual  time, 
would  draw  up  the  rope,  and  finding  him  not  there,  would  conclude 
he  had  perished ;  or  should  they  by  the  same  method  descend  to 
seek  him,  how,  among  the  thousand  nooks  of  that  bewildering  depth 
of  rock  upon  rock,  find  the  secret  recess  he  had  chosen,  where  he 
had  so  often  congratulated  himself  on  his  favorable  position,  but 
which  seemed  now  destined  for  his  grave  ? 

More  than  once  the  almost  invincible  temptation  rushed  on  his 
mind  of  ending  his  distraction  and  suspense  by  leaping  into  the  abyss. 
One  short  moment,  and  his  fears  and  sufierings,  with  his  "  life's  fit- 
ful fever,"  would  be  over.  But  the  temporary  panic  passed  away ; 
he  raised  his  thoughts  to  the  guardian  care  of  Omnipotence ;  and 
calmed,  and  reassured,  he  trusted  some  mode  of  deliverance  would 
present  itself.  To  this  end  he  more  particularly  scanned  his  limited 
resting-place.  It  was  a  rocky  shelf,  about  eight  feet  wide,  and  grad- 
ually narrowing  till  it  met  the  extended  precipice,  where  not  the  foot 
of  a  gull  could  rest ;  at  the  other  extremity  it  terminated  in  an  abrupt 
descent  of  hundreds  of  feet ;  at  the  back  was  a  mural  rock,  smooth, 
and  slippery  as  ice ;  and  above  was  a  beetling  crag,  overarching  the 
place  where  he  stood,  outside  of  which  depended  his  only  safety  — 
his  unfortunate  rope.  Every  way  he  moved,  carefully  examining 
and  attempting  each  possible  mode  of  egress  from  his  singular  prison- 
house.  He  found  none.  There  remained,  so  far  as  his  own  efforts 
were  concerned,  one  desperate  chance  to  endeavor  to  reach  the  rope. 
By  means  of  his  long  pole  he  attempted  to  bring  it  to  his  hand.  Long 
he  tried ;  but  he  tried  in  vain  :  he  could  hardly  touch  it  with  the  end 
of  the  stick  and  other  appliances ;  but  no  ingenuity  could  serve  to 
hook  it  fast.  Should  he,  then,  leap  from  the  rock,  and  endeavor  to 
catch  it  as  he  sprung  ?  Was  there  any  hope  he  could  succeed,  or, 
catching,  could  h'^  sustain  his  hold  till  'drawn  to  the  top  ?  This, 
indeed,  seemed  his  only  forlorn  hope.  One  fervent  prayer,  there- 
fore, for  agility,  courage,  and  strength,  and  with  a  bold  heart,  a 
steady  eye,  and  outstretched  hand,  he  made  the  fearful  spring! 
We  dare  not  and  could  not  say  exactly  the  distance  —  it  was  many 
feet  —  but  he  caught  the  rope,  first  with  one  hand,  and  in  the  next 
moment  with  the  other.  It  slipped  through,  peeling  the  skin  from 
his  palms ;  but  the  knot  towards  the  loops  at  the  end  stopped  his 
impetus,  and  he  felt  he  could  hold  fast  for  a  time.  He  made  the 
usual  signal  urgently,  and  was  drawn  upwards  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
Yet  the  swinging  motion,  the  imminent  danger,  and  his  own  preca- 


FOWLING   IN   FAROE   AND   SHETLAND.  205 

rious  strength  considered,  we  may  well  believe  the  shortest  interval 
would  seem  long,  and  that  no  ordinary  courage  and  energy  were 
Btill  necessary  for  his  safety.  He  reached  the  top,  and  instantly 
prostrated  himself  on  the  turf,  returning  aloud  to  the  Almighty  his 
fervent  thanksgivings,  a  few  words  of  which  had  hardly  escaped  hl^i 
lips,  when  he  sunk  into  utter  insensibility. 

Great  was  the  amazement  of  his  associates  to  find  him  hanging  on 
by  his  hands  —  greater  far  their  astonishment  at  his  singular  adven- 
ture :  but  once  having  told  his  tale,  which  every  circumstance  clearly 
corroborated,  his  pole  and  net  being  found  on  the  rock  as  described, 
he  never  would  again  be  prevailed  on  to  recur  to  the  subject ;  nor 
did  he  ever  approach  in  the  direction  of  the  clifi"  from  which  he  had 
descended,  without  turning  shudderingly  away  from  a  spot  associated 
with  a  trial  so  severe. 

Quite  contrasted  to  all  these  scenes,  as  we  observed  at  the  outset, 
are  the  aspect  of  nature  and  the  manner  of  taking  the  sea-fowl  and 
their  eggs  in  Shetland.  The  hills  are  low,  none  of  the  seaward  preci- 
pices are  above  six  or  seven  hundred  feet  high ;  and  so  far  from  fowl- 
ing being  pursued  as  a  regular  branch  of  employment,  under  proper 
regulations,  as  in  Faroe,  the  Shetland  landlords  and  other  superiors 
by  all  means  discourage  their  dependants  from  spending  their  time 
and  energies  in  what  is  at  best  to  them  a  desultory  and  most  danger- 
ous occupation,  which,  moreover,  robs  the  rocks,  otherwise  so  bare 
and  rugged,  of  those  feathered  denizens,  their  appropriate  ornament. 
Still,  so  fascinating  and  exciting  is  this  method  of  idling  away  time, 
that  might  be  much  more  profitably  or  improvingly  employed,  al 
least,  in  these  islands,  that  many  of  the  fishermen  frequent  the  clifis 
and  peril  their  lives  in  the  forbidden  pursuit.  Serious  accidents 
occasionally  occur.  Some  time  ago  a  poor  man  met  a  very  dreadful 
fate.  He  had  been  creeping  into  a  crevice  where  were  several  nests 
with  eggs ;  having  inserted  half  of  his  body,  he  had  dislodged  a  stone, 
which  held  him  fast.  His  decaying  corpse  was  found  some  time 
afterwards ;  the  head,  shoulders,  and  outstretched  hands  jammed  in 
the  crevice,  and  the  feet  and  lesjs  hansrino;  out. 

More  lately,  a  man  noted  for  his  fowling  depredations  went  out  one 
fine  morning  to  gather  shell-fish  bait  for  the  next  day's  fishing.  It 
happened  to  be  the  day  after  communion  Sabbath,  when  there  is  sermon 
at  noon.  The  fisherman's  Sunday  clothes  were  laid  ready,  his  family 
went  to  church  and  returned,  but  he  appeared  not :  night  caine,  and 
he  was  yet  absent.  Still  his  family  were  under  no  particular  anxiety, 
imagining  he  had  gone  to  a  friend's  at  some  little  distance.  In  th<j 
morning,  however,  when  he  did  not  join  his  boat's  crew  to  go  to  the 
usual  fishing,  the  alarm  was  raised,  and  inquiry  and  search  iramedi' 


206  FOWLING   IN    FAROE   AND   SHETLAND. 

ately  made.  It  was  without  success  for  a  considerable  time ;  but. 
finally,  near  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  where  an  opening  rent  in  tlid 
rocks  made  an  accessible  way  for  a  short  distance  downwards,  the 
poor  man's  shoes  and  basket  of  bait  were  found.  Following  up  this 
indication,  his  fishing  associates  proceeded  in  their  boat  to  the  base 
of  the  clifi",  from  whence  they  saw  something  like  a  human  being. 
With  renewed  hope  they  climbed  up,  and  found  their  unfortunate 
comrade,  caught  between  two  rocks,  where  he  reclined  as  if  asleep ; 
but  he  had  fallen  from  a  great  height,  and  was  quite  dead ;  and  by 
this  act,  as  of  a  truant  schoolboy,  for  a  few  wild-fowl  eggs,  was  a 
wife  and  large  family  left  destitute  and  mourning ! 

There  is  in  the  island  of  Unst,  the  most  northerly  of  the  Shetlands, 
one  man,  who,  by  his  bravery,  expertness,  and,  we  may  perhaps  add, 
his  incorrigible  perseverance,  has  gained  a  sort  of  tacit  immunity  from 
the  general  restriction,  or,  at  least,  his  poaching  misdemeanors  are 
winked  at.  His  father  was  a  noted  fowler  before  him  ;  and  since  his 
own  earliest  boyhood,  he  has  been  accustomed  to  make  it  his  pastime 
to  scramble  among  the  steepest  crags  and  cliffs,  making  many  a  hair- 
breadth escape,  many  an  unheard-of  prize.  He  has  robbed  the  most 
inaccessible  nooks  of  their  inhabitants,  and  even  surprised  the  sea  eagle 
in  her  nest.  He  climbs  barefooted,  and  his  toes  clasp  the  slippery 
rock  as  talons  would.  Fear  or  dizziness  he  knows  not  of;  and  for  a 
few  shillings,  or,  for  an  afternoon's  recreation,  he  will  scale  many  a 
ladder  of  rock,  and  penetrate  many  a  time-worn  crevice,  where  human 
foot  but  his  own  will  probably  never  tread.  Every  cranny,  every 
stepping- place  of  the  precipitous  headlands  of  his  native  island  aro 
intimately  known  to  him ;  and  at  how  much  expense  of  unconquera- 
ble perseverance,  zigzag  explorings,  and  undaunted  courage  this  has 
been  accomplished,  we  may  not  stop  too  particularly  to  relate. 

On  one  occasion,  led  on  by  his  indomitable  love  of  exploring,  he  had 
passed  to  a  point  of  a  cliff  to  which  even  he  had  never  before  been. 
His  object  was  to  discover  the  spot  where  he  believed  a  pair  of  eagles 
had  long  built  unmolested.  Overjoyed,  he  reached  the  place ;  trium- 
phantly he  possessed  himself  of  the  eggs  (for  which,  by  the  by,  a  com- 
mercial collector  afterwards  paid  him  five  shillings) ;  and  then  he 
for  the  first  time  became  aware  of  his  whereabouts.  How  he  got 
there  he  could  not  even  imagine.  He  paused  a  few  moments;  it  was 
not  fear,  but  unfeigned  surprise  and  awe  that  entranced  him ;  and 
then  the  consideration  naturally  forced  itself  on  his  attention  — 
"  How  shall  I  return  ?  "  It  ought  to  be  mentioned,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  uninitiated,  that  it  is  much  more  difficult  to  get  down  than  to 
ascend.  The  whole  tortuosities  and  difficulties  of  the  path  are  more 
ilearly  in  view,  and  the  head  is  not  apt  to  be  so  steady.    In  the  pre»- 


FOWLING   IN   FAROE  AND   SHETLAND.  207 

ent  case,  moreover,  the  excitement  was  past  — the  object  was  attained, 
and  it  is  wonderful  how  the  blood  cools,  and  courage  becomes  calcu- 
lating, in  these  latter  circumstances.  Well,  beside  the  plundered 
eyrie  our  gallant  adventurer  sat  cogitating.  "I'll  never  return, 
that's  certain,  to  begin  with,"  he  said  to  himself.  "After  all  my 
escapes  and  exploits,  my  time  is  come  at  last.  Well,  if  it  is,  it  is :  let 
me  meet  it  like  a  man !  If  it  is  not  come,  I  shall  get  down  in  safety, 
as  I  have  done  ere  now,  though  never  from  such  an  awful  place  before." 
So  he  precipitately  began  the  descent  —  plunging  on  without  an  idea 
except  his  early-imbibed  belief  in  predestination,  and  an  occasional 
aspiration  to  ,the  Almighty  for  protection.  He  never  knew,  he  says, 
how  or  by  what  paths  he  reached  a  place  of  comparative  safety ;  but 
he  would  not  attempt  to  go  again  to  that  spot  for  twenty  guineas. 

It  is  not,  however,  only  in  those  localities  with  which  from  child- 
hood he  has  been  familiar  that  our  courageous  fowler  is  dexterous 
and  adventurous  in  his  undertakings.  Tempted  by  an  offer  of  ade- 
quate remuneration  from  an  amateur,  he  engaged  to  procure  an 
eagle's  egg  from  a  distant  quarter,  where  they  were  known  to  have  a 
nest.  The  gentleman,  in  the  interval  of  his  absence,  sorely  repented 
that  he  had  proffered  the  bribe,  though  he  by  no  means  urged  the 
step.  But  in  due  time  the  brave  cragsman  returned  successful, 
having  twice  scaled  the  precipice  to  the  eyrie.  The  first  time,  when 
he  reached  the  place,  from  whence  he  scared  the  parent  birds,  he  found 
the  nest  so  situated,  that,  though  he  saw  the  eggs,  he  could  not  by 
any  possibility  reach  them.  Nothing  daunted,  he  returned  and  made 
his  preparations.  To  the  end  of  a  long  fishing-rod  he  attached  a  blad- 
der, the  mouth  of  which  he  kept  distended  by  a  wire.  Reaching  this 
simple  but  ingenious  apparatus  to  the  nest,  from  the  perching-place 
where  he  leaned,  he  gradually  worked  the  eggs  into  the  bladder-bag 
with  the  point  of  the  rod,  and  bore  them  off  in  triumph.  It  was  thS 
most  lucrative,  though  the  most  dangerous  adventure  he  had  ever 
accomplished ;  for  the  locality  was  strange,  the  weather  was  gloomy, 
And  the  birds  were  fierce,  and,  at  one  time,  in  startling  proximity  to 
Uie  spoiler. 

This  man,  who  in  every  respect  is  the  beau  ideal  of  a  successful 
bwler,  is  now  in  the  prime  of  life,  about  medium  height,  active  and 
*gile  of  course,  and  slender  and  lithe  as  an  eel.  During  the  late 
trying  season  of  destitution  from  the  failure  of  crops  and  fishing,  he 
has  mainly  supported  his  family  by  the  produce  of  such  exploits  as 
we  have  been  detailing.  And  he  has  a  little  son,  the  tiny  counterpart 
of  himself,  whom,  almest  ever  since  he  could  walk,  he  has  taught  to 
dimb  the  rocks  along  with  him,  and  who,  therefore,  bids  fair,  should  he 
escape  casualties,  to  be  as  bold  and  expert  in  fowling  as  is  his  parent. 


Among  the  many  strange  objects  which  an  Englishman  meets 
with  in  India,  there  are  few  which  tend  so  much  to  upset  his  equa- 
nimity as  a  visit  from  a  wandering  Fuqueer. 

The  advent  of  one  of  these  gentry  in  an  English  settlement  is 
regarded  with  much  the  same  sort  of  feeling  as  a  vagrant  cock- 
roach, when  he  makes  his  appearance,  unannounced,  in  a  modem 
drawing-room.  If  we  could  imagine  the  aforesaid  cockroach  bran- 
dishing his  horns  in  the  face  of  the  horrified  inmates,  exulting  in 
the  disgust  which  his  presence  creates,  and  intimating,  with  a  con- 
ceited swagger,  that,  in  virtue  of  his  ugliness,  he  considered  himself 
entitled  to  some  cake  and  wine,  perhaps  the  analogy  would  be  more 
complete. 

The  fuqueer  is  the  mendicant  friar  of  India.  He  owns  no  supe- 
rior; wears  no  clothing;  performs  no  work;  despises  everybody 
and  everything ;  sometimes  pretends  to  perpetual  fasting,  and  lives 
on  the  fat  of  the  land. 

There  is  this  much,  however,  to  be  said  for  him,  that  when  he 
does  mortify  himself  for  the  good  of  the  community,  he  does  it  to 
some  purpose.  A  lenten  fast,  or  a  penance  of  parched  pease  in 
his  shoes,  would  be  a  mere  bagatelle  to  him.  We  have  seen  a 
fuqueer  who  was  never  "  known"  to  eat  at  all.  He  carried  a  small 
black  stone  about  with  him,  which  had  been  presented  to  his 
mother  by  a  holy  man.  He  pretended  that  by  sucking  this  stone, 
and  without  the  aid  of  any  sort  of  nutriment,  he  had  arrived  at  the 
mature  age  of  forty ;  yet  he  had  a  nest  of  supplementary  chins,  and 
a  protuberant  paunch,  which  certainly  did  great  credit  to  the  fat- 
tening powers  of  the  black  stone.  Oddly  enough,  his  business 
was  to  collect  eatables  and  drinkables ;  but,  like  the  Scottish  gen- 
tleman who  was  continually  begging  brimstone,  they  were  "no  for 
hissel,  but  for  a  neebour."  When  I  saw  him  he  was  soliciting 
offerings  of  rice,  milk,  fish,  and  ghee,  for  the  benefit  of  his  patron 


A  fuqueer's  cursb.  iO^ 


Devi.  These  offerings  were  nightly  laid  upon  the  altar  before  the 
Devi,  who  was  supposed  to  absorb  them  during  the  night,  consider- 
ately leaving  the  fragments  to  be  distributed  among  the  poor  of  the 
parish.  His  godship  was  very  discriminating  in  the  goodness  and 
freshness  of  these  offerings ;  for  he  rejected  such  as  were  stale,  to  be 
returned  next  morning,  with  his  maledictions,  to  the  fraudulent 
donors. 

Sometimes  a  fuqueer  will  take  it  into  his  head  that  the  commu- 
nity will  be  benefited  by  his  trundling  himself  along,  like  a  cart-wheel, 
for  a  couple  of  hundred  miles  or  so.  He  ties  his  wrists  to  his 
ankles,  gets  a  tire,  composed  of  chopped  straw,  mud,  and  cow-dung, 
laid  along  the  ridge  of  his  backbone  ;  a  bamboo  staff  passed  through 
the  angle  formed  by  his  knees  and  his  elbows,  by  way  of  an  axle, 
and  off  he  goes ;  a  brazen  cup,  with  a  bag,  and  a  hubble-bubble,  hang 
like  tassels  at  the  two  extremities  of  the  axle.  Thus  accoutred,  he 
often  starts  on  a  journey  which  will  occupy  him  for  several  years, 
like  Milton's  fiend,  — 

"  O'er  bog,  or  steep,  through  straight,  rough,  dense,  or  rare. 
With  head,  hands,  feet  or  wings,  pursues  his  way." 

On  arriving  in  the  vicinity  of  a  village,  the  whole  population  tui'n 
out  to  meet  and  escort  him  with  due  honors  to  the  public  well  or  tank ; 
the  men  beating  drums,  and  the  women  singing  through  their  noses. 
Here  his  holiness  unbends,  washes  off  the  dust  and  dirt  acquired 
by  perambulating  several  miles  of  dusty  road  ;  and,  after  partaking 
of  a  slight  refreshment,  enters  into  conversation  with  the  assembled 
villagers  just  as  if  he  were  an  ordinary  mortal ;  making  very  par- 
ticular inquiries  concerning  the  state  of  their  larders,  and  slight 
investigations  as  to  their  morals.  Of  course  every  one  is  anxious 
to  have  the  honor  of  entertaining  a  man  so  holy  as  to  roll  to  their 
presence  doubled  up  into  a  hoop ;  and  disputes  get  warm  as  to  who 
is  to  have  the  preference.  Whereupon  the  fuqueer  makes  a  speech, 
in  which  he  returns  thanks  for,  the  attentions  shown  him,  and  inti- 
mates tliat  he  intends  taking  up  his  quarters  with  the  man  who  is 
most  capable  of  testifying  his  appreciation  of  the  honor.  After 
some  higgling,  he  knocks  himself  down,  a  decided  bargain,  to  be  the 
guest  of  the  highest  bidder,  in  whose  house  he  remains,  giving  good 
advice  to  the  community,  and  diffusing  an  odor  of  sanctity  through- 
out the  whole  village.  When  the  supplies  begin  to  fail,  he  ties  his 
hands  to  his  heels  again,  gets  a  fresh  tire  put  on,  and  is  escorted 
out  of  the  village  with  the  same  formalities  as  aooompanied  hia 
entrance. 

14 


110  A  fuqueer's  curse. 


Like  other  vermin  of  his  class,  he  is  most  apt  to  attach  himself 
to  the  "  weaker  vessels  "  of  humanity,  with  whom  he  is  generally  a 
prodigious  favorite.  He  is  not,  certainly,  indebted  to  his  personal 
advantages  for  this  favor,  for  a  more  hideously  ugly  race  of  men  is 
seldom  met  with.  As  if  nature  had  not  made  him  suj9&ciently  repul- 
sive, he  heightens  his  hideousness  by  encircling  his  eyes  with  bands 
of  white  paint ;  daubing  his  cheeks  a  rich  mustard  yellow ;  a  whito 
streak  runs  along  the  ridge  of  his  nose,  and  another  forms  a  circle 
round  his  mouth;  his  ribs  are  indicated  by  corresponding  bars  of 
white  paint,  which  give  a  highly  venerable  cross-bones  effect  to  his 
breast.  When  I  add,  that  he  wears  no  clothes,  and  that  the  use  of 
(Boap  is  no  part  of  his  religion,  some  idea  may  be  gained  of  the  effect 
the  first  view  of  him  occasions  in  the  mind  of  a  European. 

On  the  afternoon  of  a  very  sultry  day  in  June,  I  had  got  a  table 
out  in  the  verandah  of  my  bungalow,  and  was  amusing  myself  with 
a  galvanic  apparatus,  giving  such  of  my  servants  as  had  the  courage 
a  taste  of  what  they  called  Wulatee  hoinjee  (English  lightning), 
when  a  long,  gaunt  figure,  with  his  hair  hanging  in  disordered  masses 
over  his  face,  was  observed  to  cross  the  lawn.  On  arriving  within 
a  few  paces  of  where  I  stood,  he  drew  himself  up  in  an  imposing  atti- 
tude —  one  of  his  arms  akimbo,  while  the  other  held  out  towards 
me  what  appeared  to  be  a  pair  of  tongs,  with  a  brass  dish  at  the 
extremity  of  it. 

**  Who  are  you  ? "  I  called  out. 

"  Fuqueer,"  was  the  guttural  response. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"Bheek,"  (alms). 

"  Bheek !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  surely  you  are  joking,  —  a  great  stout 
fellow  like  you  can't  be  wanting  bheek ! " 

The  fuqueer  paid  not  the  slightest  attention,  but  continued  hold- 
ing out  his  tongs  with  the  dish  at  the  end  of  it. 

"  You  had  better  be  off,"  I  said ;  "  I  never  give  bheek  to  people 
who  are  able  to  work." 

"  We  do  Khooda's  work,"  replied  the  fuqueer,  with  a  swagger 

"  Oh !  you  do  —  then,"  I  answered,  "  you  had  better  ask  Khooda 
for  bheek."  So  saying,  I  turned  to  the  table,  and  began  arranging 
the  apparatus  for  making  some  experiments.  Happening  to  look  ud 
about  five  minutes  after,  I  observed  that  the  fuqueer  was  standing 
upon  one  leg,  and  struggling  to  assume  as  much  majesty  as  was  con- 
sistent with  his  equilibrium.  The  tongs  and  dish  were  still  extended, 
while  his  left  hand  sustained  his  right  foot  across  his  abdomen.  I 
turned  to  the  table,  and  tried  to  go  on  with  my  work ;  but  I  blun- 
d^ed  awfdlly,  broke  a  glass  jar,  cut  my  fingers,  and  made  a  m«a 


A  fuqueer's  curse.  211 


on  the  table.  I  had  a  consciousness  of  the  fnqueer's  staring  at  me 
with  his  extended  dish,  and  could  not  get  the  fellow  out  of  mj  head, 
I  looked  up  at  him  again.  There  he  was  as  grand  as  ever,  on  his 
one  leg,  and  with  his  eyes  riveted  on  mine.  He  continued  this  per- 
formance for  nearly  an  hour,  yet  there  did  not  seem  to  be  the  faint- 
est indication  of  his  unfolding  himself;  —  rather  a  picturesque 
ornament  to  the  lawn,  if  he  should  take  it  into  his  head,  as  these  fel- 
lows sometimes  do,  to  remain  in  the  same  position  for  a  twelvemonth 
"If,"  I  said,  " you  stand  there  much  longer,  I '11  give  you  such  » 
taste  of  boinjee  (lightning)  as  will  soon  make  you  glad  to  go." 

The  only  answer  to  this  threat  was  a  smile  of  derision  that  senl 
his  mustache  bristling  up  against  his  nose. 

"  Lightning  !  "  he  sneered  —  "  your  lightning  can't  touch  i 
fuqueer  —  the  gods  take  care  of  him." 

Without  more  ado,  I  charged  the  battery  and  connected  it  witl 
a  coil  machine,  which,  as  those  who  have  tried  it  are  aware,  is  capa 
ble  of  racking  the  nerves  in  such  a  way  as  few  people  care  to  try 
and  which  none  are  capable  of  voluntarily  enduring  beyond  a  fev 
seconds. 

The  fuqueer  seemed  rather  amused  at  the  queer-looking  imple 
ments  on  the  table,  but  otherwise  maintained  a  look  of  lofty  stoi- 
cism ;  nor  did  he  seem  in  any  way  alarmed  when  I  approached  with 
the  conductors. 

Some  of  my  servants  who  had  already  experienced  the  process, 
now  came  clustering  about,  with  looks  of  ill-suppressed  merriment, 
to  witness  the  fuqueer's  ordeal.  I  fastened  one  wire  to  his  still 
extended  tongs,  and  the  other  to  the  foot  on  the  ground. 

As  the  coil  machine  was  not  yet  in  action,  beyond  disconcerting 
him  a  little,  the  attachment  of  the  wires  did  not  otherwise  affect 
him.  But  when  I  pushed  the  magnet  into  the  coil,  and  gave  him 
the  full  strength  of  the  battery,  he  howled  like  a  demon ;  the 
tongs,  to  which  his  hands  were  now  fastened  by  a  force  beyond  his 
will,  quivered  in  his  unwilling  grasp  as  if  it  were  burning  the  flesh 
from  his  bones.  He  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  yelling  and 
gnashing  his  teeth,  the  tongs  clanging  an  irregular  accompaniment. 
Never  was  human  pride  so  abruptly  cast  down.  He  was  rolling 
about  in  such  a  frantic  way,  that  I  began  to  fear  he  would  do  him- 
self mischief;  and,  thinking  he  had  now  had  as  much  as  was  good 
for  him,  I  stopped  the  machine  and  released  him. 

For  some  minutes  he  lay  qui\/erlng  on  the  ground,  as  if  not  quite 
sure  that  the  horrible  spell  was  broken  ;  then  gathering  himself 
up,  he  flung  the  tongs  from  him,  bounded  across  the  lawn,  a*>; 
over  the  fence  like  an  antelope.   When  he  had  got  to  what  he  reoi* 


212  A  fuqueer's  curse. 


oned  cursing  distance,  he  turned  round,  shook  his  fists  at  me,  and 
fell  to  work  —  pouring  out  a  torrent  of  imprecations  —  shouting, 
screechincc  and  tossins;  his  arms  about  in  a  manner  fearful  to 
behold. 

There  is  a  peculiarity  in  the  abuse  of  an  Oriental,  that,  beyond 
wishing  the  object  of  it  a  liberal  endowment  of  blisters,  boils  and 
ulcers,  (no  inefficient  curses  in  a  hot  country,)  he  does  not  otherwise 
allude  to  him  personally ;  but  directs  the  main  burden  of  his  wrath 
against  his  female  relatives  —  from  his  grandmother  to  his  grand- 
daughter, wives,  daughters,  sisters,  aunts,  and  grand  aunts  inclusive. 
These  he  imprecates  individually  and  collectively  through  every 
clause  of  a  prescribed  formulary,  which  has  been  handed  down  by 
his  ancestors,  and  which,  in  searchingness  of  detail  and  comprehen- 
siveness of  malediction,  leaves  small  scope  for  additions  or  improve- 
ments. 

Leaving  me  then  to  rot  and  wither  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  and 
consigning  all  my  female  kindred  to  utter  and  inevitable  death  and 
destruction,  he  walked  off  to  a  neighboring  village  to  give  vent  to 
his  feelings,  and  compose  his  ruffled  dignity. 

It  so  happened,  that  a  short  time  after  the  fuqueer  had  gone,  I 
incautiously  held  my  head,  while  watching  the  result  of  some  exper- 
iments, over  a  dish  of  fuming  acid,  and  consequently  became  so  ill 
as  to  be  obliged  to  retire  to  my  bedroom  and  lie  down.  In  about 
an  hour,  I  called  to  my  bearer  to  fetch  me  a  glass  of  water  ;  but, 
although  I  heard  him  and  some  of  the  other  servants  whispering 
together  behind  the  purda,  or  door  curtain,  no  attention  was  paid 
to  my  summons.  After  repeating  the  call  two  or  three  times  with 
the  same  result,  I  got  up  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  On  drawing 
aside  the  purda,  I  beheld  the  whole  establishment  seated  in  full  con- 
clave on  their  haunches  round  the  door.  On  seeing  me,  they  all 
got  up  and  took  to  their  heels,  like  a  covey  of  frightened  partridges. 
The  old  Kidmudgar  was  too  fat  to  run  far ;  so  I  seized  him,  just  as 
he  was  making  his  exit  by  a  gap  in  the  garden  fence.  He  was,  at 
first,  quite  incapable  of  giving  any  account  of  himself;  so  I  made 
him  sit  a  minute  among  the  long  grass  to  recover  his  wind,  when 
he  broke  out  with  "Oh!  re-hah-re-hah !"  and  began  to  blubber, 
as  only  a  fat  Kidmudgar  can,  imploring  me  to  send  instantly  for  the 
fuqueer,  and  make  him  a  present ;  if  I  did  not,  I  would  certainly 
be  a  dead  man  before  to-morrow's  sun  ;  "  For,"  said  he,  "  a  fuqueer's 
curse  is  good  as  hismut-ke-hat^^^a.  matter  of  fate).  Some  of  his 
fellows  now  seeing  that  the  murder  was  out,  ventured  to  come 
back,  and  joined  in  requesting  me  to  save  my  life  while  there  was 
yet  time. 


A  fuqueer's  curse.  213 


A  laugh  was  the  only  answer  I  could  make.  This  somewhat 
reassured  them,  but  it  was  easy  to  see  that  I  was  regarded  by  all 
as  a  doomed  man.  It  was  to  no  purpose  that  I  told  them  I  was  now 
quite  well,  and  endeavored  to  explain  the  cause  of  my  sickness. 
They  would  have  it  that  I  was  in  a  dying  state,  and  that  my  only 
salvation  lay  in  sending  off  a  messenger  with  a  kid  and  a  bag  of 
rupees  to  the  fuqueer.  The  durdzee  (tailor),  who  had  just  come 
from  the  village  where  the  fuqueer  had  taken  refuge,  told  me,  that^ 
as  soon  as  the  fuqueer  heard  that  I  was  ill,  he  performed  a  pas  seul 
of  a  most  impressive  character,  shouting  and  threatening  to  curse 
everybody  in  the  village  as  he  had  me  and  mine.  The  consequence 
was  that  pice,  cowries,  rice  and  ghee  were  showered  upon  him  with 
overwhelming  liberality. 

Without  saying  a  word,  I  armed  myself  with  a  horsewhip,  set 
out  for  the  village,  and  found  the  fuqueer  surrounded  by  a  dense 
crowd  of  men  and  women,  to  whom  he  was  jabbering  with  tremen- 
dous volubility ;  telling  them  how  he  had  withered  me  up  root  and 
branch,  and  expressing  a  hope  that  I  would  serve  as  a  lesson  to  the 
other  children  of  Sheitan  who  ventured  to  take  liberties  with  a 
fuqueer.  The  crowd  hid  me  from  him  till  I  broke  in  upon  his  dreams 
with  a  slight  taste  of  my  whip  across  his  shoulders.  His  eyes  nearly 
leaped  out  of  their  sockets  when  he  turned  round  and  saw  me. 
Another  intimation  from  my  thong  sent  him  off  with  a  yell,  leaving 
the  rich  spoil  he  had  collected  from  the  simple  villagers  behind. 
What  became  of  him  I  cannot  tell.     I  heard  no  more  of  him. 

A  few  such  adventures  as  these  would  tend  to  lessen  the  gross, 
and,  to  them,  expensive  superstitions  under  which  the  natives  of 
India  at  present  labor. 


THE   BISIETS    Of   AFRICA. 


Geography  of  ihe  Deserts  —  Physical  Structure  and  Leading  Features  — 
Vegetable  and  Animal  Productions  —  Conjectures  as  to  the  Origin  of 
the  Deserts. 

The  nortliern  coast  of  Africa  has  long  been  known  to  the  civil- 
ized world,  and  once  formed  no  unimportant  part  of  its  political 
and  social  system.  But  though  Egypt  took  the  lead  in  science,  and 
Carthage  in  commercial  enterprise,  yet  the  progress  of  civilization 
does  not  appear  to  have  extended  at  any  time  beyond  the  tracts  of 
land  immediately  bordering  on  the  Nile  and  the  Mediterranean.  A 
few  days'  journey  into  the  interior  placed  the  traveller  on  apparently 
endless  plains  of  shifting  sand ;  a  boundary  which  arrested  the  vic- 
torious career  of  Cambyses  and  Alexander,  and  which  has,  in  all 
subsequent  ages,  baffled  every  attempt  at  colonization  and  improve- 
ment. Till  within  the  last  few  years,  the  immense  region  which 
extends  from  the  fertile  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  to  the  country 
called  Soudan,  or  Nigritia,  has  been  left  a  blank  or  dotted  space  on 
our  maps,  marked  in  large  letters  "  Sahara,  or  the  Great  Desert ;" 
as  though  nature,  departing  from  her  usual  diversity  of  operations, 
had  here  adopted  the  rule  of  monotony  and  uniformity,  and  had 
spread  in  every  direction  a  sheet  of  burning  sand.  The  imagina- 
tion of  poets  has  availed  itself  of  the  silence  of  geographers,  and 
represented  this  as  a  region  without  a  blade  of  grass,  and  traversed 
by  no  living  thing,  except  wild  beasts  of  prey,  and  here  and  there  a 
tribe  of  savages,  ignorant  of  the  primary  wants  of  individual  life 
which  attach  man  to  the  soil,  as  well  as  of  the  first  elements  of  social 
existence  which  unite  him  to  his  fellow-men. 

Travellers  have  from  time  to  time  ventured  into  the  mysterious 
abyss ;  and  the  few  who  have  returned  to  tell  what  they  saw,  have 
furnished  some  interesting  particulars  concerning  the  route  they 
pursued,  and  the  people  they  encountered.     Their  aim,  however 

214) 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  J15 

was  rather  to  get  through  the  Desert  than  to  become  acquainted 
with  it,  the  great  object  of  curiosity  being  the  Negro  country  which 
lies  beyond.  But  since  the  French  assumed  the  sovereignty  of 
Algeria  in  1830,  they  have  felt,  like  all  preceding  conquerors  of 
this  territory,  the  impossibility  of  colonizing  and  civilizing  it,  with- 
out exercising  a  corrasponding  influence  on  the  adjoining  desert ; 
and  thus  the  Sahara  itself  has  become  an  object  of  deep  attention. 
They  have  labored  assiduously  to  understand  its  resources,  the  social 
condition  of  its  tribes,  and  the  relation  which  subsists  between  them 
and  the  inhabitants  of  the  surroundino;  countries.  It  must  be 
added,  that  they  have  made  attempts  as  futile  as  unwarrantable, 
to  compel  the  Saharians  to  receive  law  and  civilization  at  their 
hands.  Their  utmost  success  in  this  respect  has  been,  to  obtain  a 
scanty  tribute  from  some  of  the  Oases ;  to  plunder  and  devastate 
others  whose  inhabitants  fled  before  them ;  and  to  drive  the  streams 
of  commerce  from  their  own  province  to  the  neighboring  states  of 
Morocco  and  Tripoli.  Meanwhile,  a  vast  body  of  information  had 
been  collected,  chiefly  with  reference  to  the  northern  and  western 
parts  of  Sahara ;  while  Mr.  Richardson,  who  penetrated  the  Desert 
further  towards  the  east  in  the  year  1846,  has  made  us  acquainted 
with  a  portion  which  the  French  could  know  only  by  hearsay.  Re- 
cent discoveries  in  Central  Africa  have  thrown  new  interest  around 
the  deserts  which  form  its  northern  boundary ;  and  the  more  so, 
as  it  is  the  present  opinion  that  the  most  eligible  route  to  Nigritia 
is  across  the  wastes  of  Sahara  from  the  Mediterranean  shores,  rather 
than  through  the  pestilential  forests  and  savage  populations  which 
are  found  between  the  Senegal  and  the  Niger. 

The  desert  region  which  we  propose  now  to  describe,  is  bounded 
on  the  north  by  the  states  of  Barbary,  on  the  west  by  the  Atlantio 
Ocean,  on  the  south  by  Soudan,  or  Nigritia,  and  the  river  Senegal, 
and  on  the  east  by  Egypt  and  Nubia.  Adopting  the  ancient  classi- 
cal figure,  we  should  call  this  vast  expanse  an  ocean,  dividing  the 
continent  of  the  black  race  from  the  abodes  of  white  men  :  as  such 
it  is  traversed  by  powerftd  fleets,  infested  with  daring  freebooters, 
and  studded  here  and  there  with  single  islands,  or  numerous  archi- 
pelagoes. It  is  difficult  to  assign  its  precise  limits  to  the  north,  on 
account  of  the  interruptions  to  which  it  is  subject  in  that  direction. 
It  has  been  usual  to  consider  the  Great  Sahara  as  reaching  from 
about  the  16th  to  the  29th  parallels,  and  to  call  by  various  names 
—  as  the  Little  Desert,  the  Desert  of  Anghad,  the  Desert  of  Shott, 
&c.  —  those  gulfs  of  the  sandy  ocean  which  project  further  north; 
while  the  region  of  numerous  oases,  which  form  the  northern  skirt- 


216  THE    DESERTS    Of    AFRICA. 

'mgr  of  the  Sahara,  have  been  denominated  Beled-el-Jerid,  or  the 
Date-Country. 

The  term  is  in  many  respects  ineligible,  as  it  conveys  the  idea  of 
great  fertility :  and  by  no  means  suggests  the  fact,  that  it  is,  as  a 
whole,  a  desert  region,  absolutely  barren  and  uninhabitable  in  many 
places,  though  abounding  towards  the  east  in  the  fertile  spots  called 
oases,  which  are  generally,  but  not  universally,  congenial  to  the 
date.  The  fact  is,  that  this  fruit  attains  its  greatest  perfection  in 
some  of  those  verdant  spots  which  are  found  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  Central  Desert ;  and  were  it  only  on  this  ground,  the  appella- 
tion Date-Country  is  unsuitable  for  distinguishing  the  region  of 
numerous  oases  in  the  north  from  the  more  thinly-sown  portion 
in  the  centre.  We  may,  therefore,  so  far  adopt  the  French  nomen- 
clature, as  to  call  this  interesting,  and  now  pretty  well-known  coun- 
try, "the  Northern  Sahara,"  in  contradistinction  to  the  Central, 
which  it  might  confuse  the  English  reader  to  denominate  the  Falat, 
as  the  term  Sahara  is  retained  in  our  best  maps. 

The  inhabitants  of  the  Desert  know  no  other  division  of  their 
country  than  that  of  tribes  and  oases  —  the  very  names  of  which 
were  long  unknown  in  Europe,  but  are  now  to  some  extent  ascer- 
tained and  defined.  Instead,  however,  of  burdening  the  reader's 
memory  with  a  large  number  of  names  which  he  might  find  in  no 
map  within  his  reach,  and,  perhaps,  might  never  again  meet  in  the 
course  of  his  reading,  we  shall  merely  point  out  the  oases  which  are 
most  important  from  their  external  relations,  and  which  we  may 
have  occasion  afterwards  to  mention. 

Beginning  from  the  west,  and  proceeding  along  the  northern  bor- 
der, the  first  fertile  spots  to  be  noted  are  El-Harib,  important  as  a 
resting-place  on  the  direct  route  from  the  city  of  Morocco  to  Tira- 
buctoo ;  and  Tafilet,  the  capital  of  the  Shereef  tribe,  and  the  centre 
of  an  extensive  commerce  with  the  negro  country,  the  interior  of 
Morocco,  and  the  East.  Tafilet  is  not  a  single  oasis,  but  a  cluster ; 
for  fertile  spots  are  both  few  and  small  west  of  the  second  degree  of 
east  longitude,  owing,  it  is  believed,  to  the  circumstance  that  the 
wind  blows  from  the  east  nine  months  in  the  year,  rushing  into  a 
hurricane  at  certain  seasons,  and  that,  in  the  course  of  time,  it  has 
accumulated  the  sand  towards  the  west.  In  the  Algerian  Sahara, 
the  most  southern  oases  are  El-Abied-Sidi-Sheik,  Wad-Miab,  Wad- 
Reklah,  Wad-Reer,  and  Wad-Soof,  better  known  by  their  towns, 
Metili,  Gardeai,  Tuggurt,  and  Temacin,  forming  a  chain  of  fertile 
spots,  south  of  which  all  is  sterility,  and  not  even  a  village  is  to  be 
seen  during  several  days'  journey.  The  fertile  belt  which  stretches 
along  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  by  the  natives  called 


THE    DESERTS    OS    AFRICA.  217 


the  Tell,  is  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  broad  in  the 
province  of  Algiers,  but  it  becomes  a  very  narrow  strip  in  the 
regency  of  Tripoli :  and  an  English  traveller  remarks  here,  that  the 
distinction  between  Great  and  Little  Deserts  is  quite  fictitious  :  it  is 
all  Sahara,  and  the  sands  reach  the  very  walls  of  Tripoli.  The  two 
great  oases,  or,  rather,  archipelagoes,  facilitate  the  intercourse  between 
the  above-named  points  and  the  interior  of  Africa :  they  are  Fezzan, 
of  which  the  capital  is  Mourzouk,  and  Twat,  whose  chief  towns  are 
Ain-salah,  Agabli,  and  Timimoom.  The  space,  however,  between 
these  and  the  nearest  of  the  northern  oases  is  very  formidable,  and 
would  be  almost  impassable  if  nature  had  not  placed  two  resting- 
places  on  the  two  principal  routes.  El-Golea  lies  between  Algeria 
and  Twat ;  Ghadamis  between  Tunis  and  Fezzan.  Timbuctoo  and 
Kashna  are  the  great  marts  in  the  negro  country  with  which 
commercial  relations  are  maintained  in  a  manner  we  shall  here- 
after describe. 

The  eastern  part  of  the  Desert,  sometimes  distinguished  as  the 
Libyan,  offers  no  points  of  similar  interest,  except  Bilna,  the  chief 
town,  famous  for  its  immense  salt  beds,  whence  large  quantities  are 
annually  exported  to  Nigritia.  But  we  must  not  overlook  the  line 
of  oases  which  is  found  running  north  and  south  near  the  extreme 
eastern  limit  of  these  dreary  wastes.  Here  are  Darfoor,  Selimeh, 
the  Great  and  Little  Oases  of  Thebes,  the  natron  lakes,  and  the 
Baha-bela-ma,  or  dry  river.  The  Great  Oasis  is  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  long,  and  four  or  five  broad ;  the  lesser,  separated  from 
it  by  forty  miles  of  desert,  is  similar  in  form.  In  the  valley  of 
Nitrium  is  another  beautiful  spot,  which  was  a  favorite  retreat  of 
Christian  monks  in  the  second  century.  Here  remain  four  out  of 
three  hundred  and  sixty  convents,  and  from  them  some  valuable 
manuscripts  of  ancient  date  have  recently  been  obtained.  x\nother 
oasis  in  this  direction  contains  splendid  ruins,  supposed  to  be  those 
of  the  famous  temple  of  Jupiter  Ammon. 

Returning  from  the  ancient  to  the  modern,  from  the  poetical  to 
the  useful,  we  remark  that  the  route  almost  directly  south  from 
Ghadamis  to  Kashna  has,  since  the  adventures  of  Lyon,  Richardson, 
and  others,  become  pretty  well  known,  and  it  is  ascertained  to  be  a 
line  of  great  commercial  activity,  and  alDOunding  with  towns  and 
villages.  Of  the  former,  Ghat^  is  celebrated  as  a  market  or  fair, 
and  Agades  as  the  capital  of  the  Targhee  tribes  in  this  district. 
Aheer  is  another  important  town,  as  it  is  on  the  way  from  Morocco 
^by  Twat)  to  Kashna;  and  also  as  it  maintains  commerce  witli 

*  Or  Rat. 


218  THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

Bilna,  Ghat,  and  Mourzouk.  We  know  little  of  the  tracts  which 
lie  west  of  Aheer,  but  on  the  line  from  Twat  to  Timbuctoo  we  find 
Mabrook,  thrice  welcome  to  the  traveller,  who  has  met  with  no  water 
for  ten  days  before  reaching  it.  Tishet,  Toudeni,  and  Wadan  "^  are 
generally  marked  on  modern  maps  on  account  of  their  salt  beds, 
which  form  a  valuable  article  of  commerce. 

The  knowledge  which  we  possess  of  the  physical  structure  of  the 
Desert  is  still  very  incomplete.  We  may,  however,  add  some  general 
views  of  the  nature  and  aspect  of  its  surface,  and  notice  some  of  its 
most  remarkable  features.  If  we  begin  our  examination  with  the 
western  portion,  a  journey  along  the  coast  offers  nothing  but  low 
sandy  tracts,  broken  here  and  there  by  rocky  headlands,  neither 
bold  nor  lofty;  the  land  is  not  perceived  at  sea  beyond  a  very 
short  distance,  which  is  doubtless  the  principal  reason  of  the  nume/- 
ous  shipwrecks  that  have  occurred  on  this  inhospitable  shore. 
Leaving  the  coast,  the  shifting  sand  extends  but  a  few  days'  jour- 
ney at  the  most,  and  we  arrive  at  a  somewhat  elevated  plain,  which 
appears  very  extensive.  It  is  close,  uniform,  stony,  and  arid  in  the 
extreme,  but  here  and  there  interrupted  by  a  hollow,  or  large  ravine, 
one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred  feet  deep,  whose  steeps  afford 
occasional  springs  of  water.  That  part  of  the  desert  which  lies 
between  El-Harib  and  Timbuctoo  is  extremely  arid,  and  destitute 
of  wells,  indicating  that  in  this  space  there  must  be  some  point  of 
culmination,  or  a  line  of  rising-ground  to  separate  the  waters,  for  we 
find  much  sand  on  the  route  of  Caillie ;  and  it  is  well  known  that 
sand  and  springs  abound  chiefly  in  low  grounds,  and  that  it  is  espe- 
cially near  the  lines  that  divide  the  waters  that  there  appear  few 
inducements  to  bore.  A  similar  swelling  has  been  remarked  between 
Twat  and  Timbuctoo.  On  leaving  Agabli,  the  most  southern  point 
of  the  former,  the  route  lies  over  sand  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
occurs  a  tract  of  stiff  red  earth,  and  the  utter  absence  of  water  for 
eight  or  ten  days.  This  does  not  extend  far  to  the  west,  for  in  that 
direction  it  is  bounded  by  a  sandy  waste. 

The  central  part  of  the  Desert  seems  to  be  considerably  more 
mountainous  than  the  eastern  or  western  portions  of  it.  Between 
Algiers  and  Twat  is  an  uninhabitable  desert  of  sand  without  water, 
separated  by  a  hilly  district  from  another  similarly  dreary  waste 
between  Algeria  and  Grhadamis.  The  country  which  lies  between 
Twat  and  Ghat  is  all  hilly,  but  its  particular  topography  is  quite 
unknown,  on  account  of  the  deadly  enmity  which  we  shall  after- 
wards have  occasion  to  notice  as  existing  between  the  populatiow 

*  Or  Hoden. 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  219 

whose  territories  it  separates,  and  which  renders  its  exploration  per- 
ilous in  the  extreme.  The  Targhee  country  abounds  in  hills  and 
stony  plains.  Mr.  Richardson  describes  himself  as  travelling  six 
days  southward  from  Ghadamis  without  meeting  fifty  yards  of  sand ; 
the  route  lay  over  hard  baked  earth,  and  huge  blocks  of  stone,  but 
diiefly  beds  of  very  small  pebbles.  Afterwards  he  met  sand  in  abun- 
dance —  masses  of  it  quite  loose,  and  four  hundred  feet  high.  To- 
wards Ghat  it  was  heap  upon  heap,  pile  upon  pile,  every  succeeding 
feature  of  the  landscape  appearing  more  hideous  than  the  former, 
and  the  whole  presenting  "a  mass  of  blank  existence,  having  no 
apparent  object  but  to  terrify  the  hapless  traveller,  who,  with  his 
faithful  camel,  pursues  his  weary  way  through  the  waste."  The 
country  about  Ghat  is  intersected  in  every  direction  with  dark 
gloomy  mountains.  Here,  it  is  said,  that  spirits  of  the  air  live  in 
harmonious  alliance  with  the  tribes  of  the  Desert,  in  consequence 
of  a  kind  of  Magna  Charta,  a  treaty  offensive  and  defensive,  made 
between  them  ages  ago.  The  jenoum,  (demons,  or  genii,)  who  had 
chosen  to  build  their  palaces  in  these  mountains,  offered  their 
friendship  and  protection  to  the  sons  of  men,  on  condition  of  being 
allowed  to  remain  unmolested,  promising  especially  to  endue  their 
human  allies  with  vision  and  tact,  during  the  houi-s  of  darkness,  to 
surprise  and  overcome  their  enemies.  And  the  Targhee  fathers 
alone  of  mortals  vowed  them  eternal  and  inviolable  friendship  on 
these  conditions,  swearing  that  they  never  would  employ  Maraboot, 
holy  Koran,  or  any  other  means,  to  dislodge  them  from  the  black 
turret-shaped  hills.  The  treaty  has  never  been  violated ;  the  demons 
dwell  unmolested  in  their  lofty  castles ;  and  many  an  unfortunate 
traveller,  or  hapless  negro  family,  witnesses  the  fearful  efficacy  of 
the  powers  which  they  have  conferred  upon  the  Touarik.  Standing 
out  conspicuously  among  the  private  dwellings  of  the  demons  is  an 
immense  rock  :  this  is  their  council-hall ;  and  here,  from  thousands 
of  miles  round,  do  the  spirits  of  the  air  meet  to  deliberate  on  the 
affairs  of  their  social  polity.  Here,  too,  are  their  public  treasuries 
—  caverns  full  of  gold,  silver,  and  diamonds  —  all,  we  presume,  of 
a  spiritual  nature,  like  their  possessors,  or  we  doubt  if  they  would 
remain  inviolable.  Nor  must  we  omit  to  mention  a  rocking  or  log- 
ging-stone, about  fifty  feet  high.  It  was  the  spot  on  which  a  wealthy 
Maraboot  of  gi'eat  sanctity  met  a  violent  death.  The  murderer, 
Beized  with  remorse  for  his  deed  of  blood,  entreated  the  genii  to 
cover  up  the  body  from  sight,  as  he  had  not  courage  himself  to  bury 
it.  They  listened  to  his  prayer,  and  detached  this  piece  of  rock 
from  their  great  palace  to  form  a  sepulchral  stone  ;  and  here  it  has 
rested,  occasionally  reeking,  say  the  people,  to  this  day.     The  mup* 


220  THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

derer  then  begged  that  the  genii  would  accept  some  of  the  spoil  in 
token  of  his  gratitude ;  but  they  refused  to  touch  the  bloodstained 
gold,  and  pelted  the  wretch  to  death. 

The  topography  of  Fezzan  presents  a  mixture  of  mountains  and 
plains ;  and  the  soil  is  sterile  enough  except  in  the  oases,  which  are 
said  to  be  about  one  hundred  in  number.  The  most  remarkable 
feature  of  this  part  of  Sahara  is  the  chain  which  separates  it  from 
Tripoli,  and  which  runs  from  east-south-east  to  west-north-west,  like 
the  coast  from  Benghazi  to  Khabs.  The  whole  country  south  of 
Fezzan  consists  likewise  of  hills  and  stony  plains,  sandy  tracts  being 
met  with  only  here  and  there.  A  long  range  of  black  basaltic 
mountains  forms  the  western  boundary  of  the  Tiboo  country  or 
Libyan  Desert,  where  the  continent  shelves  down  towards  the  Med- 
iterranean in  a  series  of  sandy  or  gravelly  terraces,  divided  by 
low  rocky  ridges.  This  shelving  country  is  cut  transversely  by  the 
deep  furrow  in  which  is  the  long  line  of  oases  to  which  we  have 
adverted  as  of  ancient  classic  celebrity.  A  hideous  flinty  plain,  sev- 
eral days'  journey  across,  lies  between  it  and  the  parallel  valley  of 
the  Nile,  which  forms  the  eastern  boundary  of  the  great  Deserts  of 
Africa. 

It  appears  thus,  that  insulated  hills,  or  groups  of  them,  generally 
of  naked  sandstone  or  granite,  are  by  no  means  uncommon  through- 
out the  Sahara,  where  they  appear  like  islands  in  the  vast  expanse. 
The  stony  plains  also  are  somewhat  elevated,  as  are  those  of  stiff 
cJay ;  the  sandy  tracts  lie  lower ;  and  deeper  still  are  the  ravines 
and  basins  which  constitute  the  most  peculiar  and  interesting  feat- 
ures of  the  Saharian  landscape.  The  Desert  boasts  of  no  perma- 
nent river ;  but  the  winter  rains  give  rise  to  temporary  streams, 
which  fill  these  hollows,  and  then  sink  to  some  unknown  depth  in 
the  sand,  or  evaporate  in  the  scorching  heat  of  the  summer  sum 
Ouad  or  Wady  is  the  term  used  to  designate  the  channels  of  these 
temporary  streams,  which  sometimes  acquire,  on  account  of  the  rapid- 
ity of  their  fall,  a  velocity  which  uproots  trees  and  spreads  desola- 
tion everywhere  in  its  course.  This  is  especially  the  case  in  the 
northern  oases.  At  that  of  Mzab,  for  instance,  when  the  sky  dark- 
ens towards  the  north,  a  number  of  horsemen  set  out  in  that  direc- 
tion, and  station  themselves  at  regular  distances  on  the  highest 
points  of  the  land.  If  the  torrent  appears,  the  farthest  of  them 
fires  a  gun ;  the  telegraphic  signal  is  repeated  from  post  to  post, 
and  reaches  the  town  in  a  few  minutes.  The  inhabitants  run  imme- 
diately to  the  gardens,  to  awake  the  men  who  may  be  sleeping  there, 
and  in  haste  they  carry  away  every  object  of  value  that  might 
become  the  prey  of  the  devastating  flood.     Presently  a  dreadful 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  221 

noise  announces  the  irruption  of  the  torrent ;  the  soil  of  the  gar- 
dens disappears  beneath  the  water  ;  and  the  Saharian  city  seems 
transported,  as  if  by  magic,  to  the  banks  of  a  broad  and  rapid  river, 
whence  arise,  like  little  isles  of  verdure,  innumerable  heads  of  palm- 
trees  —  an  ephemeral  ornament  which  disappears  in  a  few  days. 

Some  of  the  basins  are  very  extensive,  and  contain  beds  of  salt 
considerable  enousfh  to  be  worked :  such  are  the  famous  Traza,  Tou- 
deiii,  and  Tishet.  In  latitude  about  thirty-four  degrees  north,  and 
nearly  on  the  meridian  of  London,  are  two  large  basins,  called  Shott, 
situated  in  a  frightful  desert,  and  divided  from  each  other  by  an 
isthmus  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  miles  broad.  They  present  a 
very  singular  formation,  which  would  open  an  interesting  field  of 
geological  inquiry.  The  eastern  basin  is  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  long,  and  the  western  about  eighty-five,  the  mean 
breadth  of  each  being  about  six  miles.  These  basins  exhibit  a  fall 
of  the  earth  from  thirty-five  to  sixty  feet  deep,  nearly  vertical, 
and  so  perfectly  clean  and  smooth  that  they  appear  as  if  wrought 
out  with  a  chisel.  Dr.  Jacquot,  who  examined  them  minutely  in 
1847,  asserts  that  they  could  not  have  been  produced  by  any  grad- 
ual action  of  water ;  that  they  are  evidently  crateres  de  soulevement^ 
and  bear  the  appearance  of  having  been  torn  open  by  the  convulsion 
which  upheaved  the  Atlas,  their  greater  axis  being  parallel  to  that 
chain,  like  most  of  the  accidents  of  the  Northern  Sahara.  Several 
pluvial  streams  flow  into  these  basins,  and  various  small  plants  are 
found  in  them  ;  but  they  become  perfectly  dry  in  summer.  The 
local  tradition  of  the  origin  of  the  Shott  is,  that  at  a  remote  period 
of  antiquity,  the  Saharians,  jealous  of  the  fine  sheet  of  water  which 
forms  the  boundary  of  the  Tell,  resolved  to  have  a  sea  of  their 
own.  With  immense  labor  they  excavated  the  two  basins,  and  then 
the  question  was  how  to  get  them  filled.  A  numerous  caravan  was 
equipped  for  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  with  skins  to  bring 
water  for  their  artificial  sea.  Allah,  incensed  at  their  presumptu- 
ous enterprise,  destroyed  them  all  by  the  way,  and  let  loose  a  fear- 
ful tempest  on  the  splendid  city  which  they  had  built  for  a  port  on 
the  sea  which  they  contemplated.  The  ravages  of  time  have  effaced 
the  last  vestiges  of  the  unfortunate  city ;  but  the  basins  of  the  Shott, 
long,  dreary,  sterile  craters,  remain  a  witness  of  the  power  of  God, 
and  the  vanity  of  man.  If  this  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the 
Shott  afibrds  little  satisfaction  to  the  geologist,  it  is  fraught  with 
interest  to  the  lover  of  Scripture  truth,  who  finds  here,  as  in  almost 
every  country  under  heaven,  a  traditionary  record,  however  imper- 
fect, of  the  events  which  took  place  at  Babel. 

Many  of  the  depressions  of  the  Sahara,  whether  in  the  form  of 


222  THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

wads  or  basins,  enjoy  a  constant  supply  of  water  by  means  of  natural 
or  artificial  wells,  and  have  consequently  been  planted  and  inhabited : 
these  are  the  oases  of  the  Desert ;  not  to  the  eye  of  the  geologist 
like  islands  which  rise  above  the  surrounding  expanse,  but  hollows 
affording  to  animal  and  vegetable  life  not  only  the  vivifying  moist- 
ure, but  the  no  less  needful  shelter  from  the  storms  of  the  Desert. 
These  verdant  spots,  which  are  often  hundreds  of  miles  apart,  pre- 
sent considerable  encouragement  to  the  labors  of  the  husbandman, 
and  are  in  general  most  favorable  to  the  cultivation  of  the  date-palm 
and  other  fruit  trees.  Onions,  with  various  herbs  and  vegetables, 
also  find  a  congenial  soil ;  but  grain  does  not  appear  to  yield  abun- 
dant crops.  The  wide  wastes  abroad  furnish  for  the  most  part  a  scanty 
supply  of  coarse  grass  and  small  shrubs,  serving  as  pasturage  for  the 
cattle  of  many  a  nomade  tribe ;  but  there  are  also  extensive  tracts 
where  not  a  morsel  of  verdure  is  to  be  seen.  Nothing  can  exceed  the 
desolation  of  these  regions :  where  there  is  no  vegetable  there  can, 
of  course,  be  no  animal  life ;  day  after  day  the  traveller  wends  his 
way  without  seeing  bird,  beast,  or  insect ;  no  sound,  no  stir,  breaks 
the  dreadful  silence ;  the  dry  heated  air  is  like  the  breath  of  a  fui^ 
nace,  and  the  setting  sun  like  a  volcanic  fire.  The  desert  plains 
that  are  much  exposed  to  storms  present  an  equally  terrific  scene, 
but  somewhat  different :  the  sand  is  blown  into  clouds  that  fill  the 
atmosphere,  darken  the  sun  at  noonday,  and  almost  suffocate  the 
traveller.  Now  the  whirlwinds  form  it  into  columns  ;  and  one  of 
the  most  magnificent  and  appalling  sights  in  nature  is  presented. 
"  In  the  vast  expanse  of  desert,"  says  Bruce,  "  we  saw  towards  the 
north  a  number  of  prodigious  pillars  of  sand  at  various  distances, 
sometimes  moving  with  great  velocity,  sometimes  stalking  on  with 
majestic  slowness.  At  intervals  we  thought  they  were  coming  in  a 
very  few  minutes  to  overwhelm  us,  and  small  quantities  of  sand  did 
actually''  reach  us  more  than  once  :  again  they  would  retreat  so  as  to 
be  almost  out  of  sight,  their  tops  reaching  to  the  very  clouds  ;  then 
the  summits  often  separated  from  the  bodies,  and  these,  once  dis- 
joined, dispersed  in  air,  and  did  not  appear  more ;  sometimes  they 
were  broken  in  the  middle,  as  if  struck  with  large  cannon-shot. 
At  noon  they  began  to  advance  with  considerable  swiftness  upon  us, 
the  wind  being  very  strong  at  north.  Eleven  ranged  alongside  of 
us  about  the  distance  of  three  miles ;  the  greatest  diameter  of  the 
largest  appeared  to  me  as  if  it  would  measure  ten  feet.  They 
retired  from  us  with  a  wind  at  south-east,  leaving  an  impression  on 
my  mind  to  which  I  can  give  no  name,  though  surely  one  ingredient 
in  it  was  fear,  with  a  considerable  deal  of  wonder  and  astonishment. 
It  was  in  vain  to  think  of  fleeing ;  the  swiftest  horse  could  be  of  no 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  223 

use  to  carry  us  out  of  the  danger  and  the  full  conviction  of  this  riveted 
me  to  the  spot."  Another  traveller  had  an  opporitunity  of  seeing 
one  of  these  pillars  crossing  the  River  Gambia  from  the  Great 
Desert.  "It  passed,"  he  says,  "within  eighteen  or  twenty 
fathoms  of  the  stern  of  the  vessel,  and  seemed  to  be  about  250  feet 
in  height;  its  heat  was  sensibly  felt  at  the  distance  of  100  feet,  and 
it  left  a  strong  smell,  more  like  that  of  saltpetre  than  sulphur,  which 
remained  a  long  time." 

Downs  or  sandhills  form  a  prominent  and  remarkable  feature  of 
the  Saharian  landscape.  They  are  rounded  elevations,  smooth  as 
the  cupola  of  polished  marble,  sterile  as  the  rock  of  naked  granite, 
and  of  so  uniform  a  color  that  they  never  appear  to  blend  or  confuse 
with  surrounding  objects.  During  the  day  they  wear  the  sombre 
hue  of  a  landscape  at  sunset ;  but  by  moonlight  one  would  think 
them  phosphorescent,  from  the  brightness  of  the  light  sparkling  in 
the  bosom  of  the  shadows.  In  some  situations  the  sand-hills  seem 
to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  wind,  travelling  at  its  bidding,  and 
settling  here  or  there  to  rise  and  wander  forth  again.  Others  seem 
to  have  found  a  permanent  resting-place ;  and  this  is  generally,  if 
not  always,  in  the  shelter  of  a  mountain-chain.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  the  sands  are  not,  in  such  a  case,  heaped  against  the  mountain 
sides,  nor  yet  gathered  into  the  hollows;  they  form  a  distinct, 
secondary  chain  of  themselves,  corresponding  in  form  and  direction 
with  the  primary,  and  separated  from  it  by  a  broad  valley,  which  is 
covered  hei^  with  pebbles,  there  with  sand ;  now  with  herbage,  and 
again  with  barrenness  itself. 

The  camel,  the  sheep,  and  the  goat,  are  the  domestic  animals  of 
the  Sahara ;  few  wild  ones  of  any  kind  are  to  be  found  in  the  open 
desert.  When  the  natives  are  asked  about  the  lions  which  the 
learned  of  Europe  have  given  them  for  companions,  they  answer 
with  imperturbable  gravity,  that  "perhaps  in  Christian  countries 
there  are  lions  which  browse  on  herbage  and  drink  the  air,  but  in 
Africa  they  require  running  water  and  living  flesh ;  consequently 
they  never  appear  in  the  Sahara."  The  wooded  mountains  are 
infested  with  them,  but  they  have  no  inducement  to  descend  into 
the  sandy  plains.  The  only  formidable  creatures  are  of  the  viper 
and  scorpion  kinds.  Few  else  except  timid  and  inoffensive  species 
are  natural  guests  here  :  the  principal  are  the  gazelle,  the  ostrich, 
the  antelope,  and  the  wild  ass;  but  even  these  seem  to  venture 
little  beyond  the  skirts  of  the  desert,  except  in  the  neighborhood 
of  mountains.  The  chameleon  is  common  in  the  gardens  of  the 
central  oases,  where  it  is  allowed  to  roam  unmolested,  being  rather 
a  favorite  than  otherwise.     It  is  described  as  a  most  unsightly  crea- 


224  THE   DESERTS    OF   AFRICA. 

ture,  changing  its  color  continually,  but  never  exhibiting  a  hand- 
some one.  Its  hues  are  dunnish  red  or  yellow,  and  sometimes  a 
blackish  brown ;  it  is  often  varied  with  spots  or  stripes,  but  fre- 
quently without  either.  The  construction  of  the  eyes  is  remark- 
able ;  they  seem  to  turn  on  a  swivel,  and  are  directed  every  way  in 
a  moment.  The  Saharian  traveller  has  frequent  occasion  to  admire 
the  facility  with  which  the  camel  turns  its  head  and  neck  com- 
pletely round,  and  looks  north,  south,  east,  and  west,  without 
pausing,  or  even  slackening  its  pace  for  an  instant ;  but  he  ceases  to 
wonder  if  he  has  ever  observed  the  rapidity  of  the  chameleon's  eye. 

Another  singular  creature  is  the  thob,  (perhaps  Monitor  pulclir a,) 
a  large  species  of  lizard  not  unlike  a  miniature  alligator.  It  is 
sometimes  twenty  inches  long,  and  ten  round  the  thickest  part  of 
the  body.  It  is  covered  with  scaly  mail,  shining,  and  of  a  dark- 
gi'ay  color,  and  has  a  tail  four  inches  long,  composed  of  a  series  of 
broad,  thick,  and  sharp  hones.  The  head  is  large  and  tortoise- 
shaped,  the  mouth  small.  It  has  four  feet,  or  rather  hands,  on 
which  it  runs  awkwardly  enough,  owing  apparently  to  its  bulky  tail. 
It  hides  in  the  dry  sandy  holes  of  the  Desert,  and  the  Arabs  say 
that  a  single  drop  of  water  kills  it.  The  traveller  is  glad  to  make 
a  meal  of  the  thob ;  and,  prejudice  apart,  it  is  palatable  food,  not 
unlike  the  kid  of  the  goat. 

Nor  must  we  omit  to  mention  the  ouadad,  or  waden,  an  animal 
described  as  between  the  goat  and  bullock  in  appearance.  It  is 
hunted  in  the  sands  of  the  Central  Desert,  and  its  flavor  is  said  to 
resemble  that  of  coarse  venison.  Three  or  four  of  these  animals 
were  sent  to  the  Koyal  Zoological  Gardens  of  London  a  few  years 
ago. 

The  geology  of  the  Desert  is  still  involved  in  much  obscurity. 
Humboldt  proposes  the  question  :  *'  Has  this  once  been  a  region  of 
arable  land,  jvhose  soil  and  plants  have  been  swept  away  by  some 
extraordinary  revolution  ?  Or  is  the  reason  of  its  nakedness  that 
the  germs  of  vegetable  life  have  not  yet  been  fully  and  generally 
developed?  "  The  most  recent  opinion  seems  to  be,  that  the  latter 
is  the  true  state  of  the  case ;  that  this  expanse  of  desert  has  risen 
from  the  ocean  at  a  very  recent  period,  subsequent  even  to  the 
throes  which  gave  birth  to  the  regions  of  the  Atlas  and  Soudan. 
The  present  aspect  of  its  surface  is  exactly  that  which  it  must  have 
had  while  as  yet  submarine.  The  rocks  hid  beneath  the  ocean,  and 
continually  swept  by  its  waters,  must  tend  to  become  even ;  the 
loose  materials  of  the  mountains  being  detached  and  precipitated 
into  the  hollows  till  the  culminating  points  present  only  so  many 
masses  of  smooth  and  solid  rock.     Travellers  have  marked  this  fiaatr 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  225 

lire  of  the  desert  mountains  as  contrasted  with  those  of  Morocco : 
the  latter  exhibits  wooded  craggy  heights,  bared  by  winds,  bitten 
by  frosts,  and  hoary  with  age,  though  they  are  considered  to  have 
appeared  after  the  formation  of  the  tertiary  strata  —  that  is,  while 
the  crust  of  the  earth  was  in  its  present  state  of  development ;  but 
the  hills  of  the  Sahara  are  quite  naked,  dull  and  dead,  smooth  as 
velvet,  and  exhibiting  a  black  or  purple  hue  of  painful  uniformity. 
This  is  Mr.  Richardson's  report  of  those  he  met  in  his  route  south 
from  Tripoli ;  and  he  mentions,  what  is  yet  more  important,  their 
disposition  north  and  south,  which,  if  a  general  rule  of  disposition, 
would  go  far  to  decide  that  they  were  not  coeval  with  the  Atlas 
range.  The  immense  quantities  of  sea-shells  found,  not  only  in  the 
limestone  rocks,  but  in  the  sandy  and  pebbly  plains,  and  the  salt 
which  prevails  everywhere,  seem  to  favor  the  view  that  the  sea  has,  till 
very  lately,  covered  the  whole  of  the  space  now  under  consideration. 
Diodorus  Siculus  mentions  a  lake  of  Hesperides  in  the  interior  of 
Africa,  which,  according  to  ancient  tradition,  was  suddenly  dried 
up  by  a  fearful  convulsion  of  the  earth ;  and  Malte  Brun  conjec- 
tures that  this  lake  could  be  no  other  than  that  which  once  covered 
the  Sahara.  If  we  were  to  accept  this  hypothesis,  we  could  at  once 
find  the  long-lost  isle  of  Atlantides,  without  supposing  the  sub- 
mergence of  a  country  whose  summits  only  remain  in  the  Canaries 
and  Azores.  The  region  of  the  Atlas  Mountains,  including  the 
fertile  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  still  wears  the  appearance  of 
a  great  island,  washed  on  the  south  by  the  Sahara-belaraa,  (sea 
without  water,)  whose  sands  reach  from  the  ocean  to  the  Gulf  of 
Syrtis.  If,  however,  the  Atlantides  of  Plato  must  be  placed  in  the 
Atlantic,  and  beyond  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  might  not  such  a  con- 
vulsion as  submerged  this  country  have  been  sufficient  to  upheave 
the  Sahara? 


Inhabitants  of  the  Desert  — Berbers  and  Arabs  —  their  Habits,  Occupa 
tions,  and  Migrations  —  The  Targhee  and  his  Meharee  — The  Tibboos  — 
The  Maraboot  Tribes. 

Many  portions  of  this  singular  region  are,  as  we  have  seen,  unin- 
habited and  uninhabitable ;  but  by  far  the  greater  part  is  scantily 
peopled  by  various  tribes  of  two  distinct  nations.  The  aboriginal 
race  is  that  which  has  been  denominated  the  Atlas  Family,  said  to 
have  arisen  from  the  mixture  of  the  two  primitive  nations  which 
occupied  Northern  Africa  in  the  earliest  ages  —  that  is  to  say,  the 
Libyans  in  the  East,  and  the  Getulians  in  the  West.  The  Romans, 
lo 


226  THE   DESERTS    OF   AFRICA. 

and  after  them  the  Vandals,  mingled  themselves  with  this  race ; 
and  in  the  Berber  branch  it  now  presents  various  elements  which 
the  succession  of  generations  and  multiplicity  of  crosses  have  com- 
bined into  a  homogeneous  people.  The  other  nation  is  the  Arabs, 
who  are  obviously  invaders.  Negroes  are  seldom  to  be  met  with  in 
the  Desert  except  as  slaves  or  occasional  immigrants ;  they  are  not 
found  as  a  population  attached  to  the  soil ;  and  Jews  have  crept  all 
round  its  borders,  but  seem  never  to  have  ventured  into  its  myste- 
rious depths. 

The  Arab  invasion  of  the  Sahara  seems  to  have  commenced  in  the 
west  by  Morocco,  or  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic,  and  to  have  advanced 
eastward  to  the  interior.  All  along  the  coast  from  Senegal  to  the 
frontiers  of  Morocco,  and  thence  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Joliba, 
or  Niger,  they  seem  to  have  utterly  expelled  the  ancient  possessors 
of  the  soil.  Proceeding  eastward,  we  find  them  mingled  with 
Berbers,  but  occupying  a  distinct  social  position,  in  the  tract  which 
lies  between  the  route  from  Harib  to  Timbuctoo,  and  that  from  Aga- 
bli  to  the  same  place.  Still  further  in  the  same  direction,  some  are 
found  in  the  country  about  Mabrook ;  but  beyond  this  the  nomades 
of  the  Arab  race  disappear,  and  are  not  met  with  again  till  we  reach 
Daifoor.  In  all  the  towns,  however  —  such  as  Agades,  Kashna, 
&c.  — there  are  resident  Arabs.  A  very  powerful  tribe  of  them, 
called  Shanbah,  are  the  principal  possessors  of  some  of  the  oases  of 
Twat,  and  traverse  the  desert  wastes  north  and  west  of  these. 

Of  the  above-mentioned  tribes,  those  about  the  north  and  east 
banks  of  the  Senegal  occupy  certain  limited  districts,  having  no 
occasion  to  change  their  locality ;  the  most  numerous  of  them  is  the 
Ouled-Amer,  whose  territory  is  very  considerable.  It  is  otherwise 
with  those  who  live  further  north ;  they  are  subject  to  annual  migrar 
tions,  from  the  failure  of  pasture  and  water  during  the  summer 
months.  The  great  tribe  of  the  Ouled-Deleim,  who  in  winter 
occupy  the  country  round  Hoden,  migrate  in  summer  to  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Noon,  where  they  possess  wells  and  oases,  A  great 
number  both  of  Arab  and  Berber  tribes  of  this  part  of  the  Sahara, 
pass  the  summer  in  the  empire  of  Morocco :  such  are  the  Harib, 
who  inhabit  the  town  so  called,  and  at  the  approach  of  winter  dis- 
perse southward  to  a  distance  of  a  hundred  miles  or  more.  So  far 
are  these  nomades  from  wandering  at  hap-hazard,  as  many  suppose, 
with  their  flocks  and  herds,  and  sojourning  for  a  time  wherever  they 
chance  to  meet  with  herbage  and  water,  each  tribe  has  its  own 
region  of  pasturage  when  the  rains  of  winter  have  spread  a  scanty 
verdure  on  the  Desert,  and  its  retreat  in  some  well-watered  spot 
during  the  parching  heat  of  the  summer  months. 


THE   DESERTS    OF    AFRICA.  227 

Such  are  the  pastoral  tribes  of  the  West,  and  the  same  character 
seems  to  apply  throughout  the  Desert  to  those  who  follow  similar 
avocations.  But  the  Shanbah  above  mentioned,  and  several  other 
tribes  having  their  location  about  the  commercial  routes  which  con- 
nect Morocco  with  Twat,  and  Twat  with  Tunis  and  Timbuctoo, 
seem  to  combine  the  mercantile  and  piratical  character  in  the  highest 
perfection,  conducting  and  defending  the  caravans  that  engage  their 
protection  by  paying  a  sufficiently  heavy  tribute  for  passing  through 
their  territories,  while  they  plunder  all  others  without  mercy. 
Their  great  rivals  in  both  these  branches  of  industry  are  the 
Touarik,  whose  singular  character  and  habits  will  merit  a  more  par- 
ticular description  when  we  come  to  notice  the  more  central  tribes. 

Throughout  the  whole  extent  of  the  Northern  Sahara,  where  the 
oases  are  numerous,  we  find  the  Berber  and  Arab  races  united  by 
ties  of  mutual  dependence ;  yet  not  more  distinct  in  feature  and 
language  than  in  their  social  position  and  employment.  The 
Arabs,  true  to  their  vagabond  instincts,  traverse  the  open  country 
with  flocks  and  herds ;  undertake  the  transport  of  merchandise ; 
engage  in  the  convoy  or  pillage  of  caravans ;  and  carry  on,  in  short, 
all  that  may  be  termed  the  external  relations  of  the  community. 
They  are  the  more  numerous  and  wealthy,  of  course  also  the 
dominant  people.  In  the  palmy  days  of  the  Hamian-garabas,  a 
single  individual  has  been  known  to  possess  2000  camels,  and  four 
times  as  many  sheep.  The  Berbers,  on  the  other  hand,  are  the 
sedentary  population  :  they  inhabit  the  oases,  where  the  men  employ 
themselves  in  cultivating  the  gardens,  and  the  women  conduct  the 
manufactures.  In  their  continual  wanderings,  the  nomades  cannot 
carry  all  their  property  with  them,  and  the  ksour*  become  the 
depositories  of  their  goods.  Many  of  them,  besides,  have  pur- 
chased land  in  the  oases,  and  are  obliged  to  employ  the  sedentary 
inhabitants  to  cultivate  it.  On  the  other  hand,  as  soon  as  the 
modest  accumulations  of  the  ksourian  permit,  he  buys  a  sheep, 
which  he  confides  to  the  pastoral  care  of  the  nomade  tribe.  Thus 
the  two  nations,  who  seem  to  have  nothing  in  comm'on  but  their 
religion,  and  between  whom  there  is  anything  but  cordiality  of 
feeling,  are  closely  bound  together  by  a  reciprocity  of  interest,  and 
peace  is  the  necessary  result. 

The  French,  who  have  been  laboring  these  twenty  years  to  sub- 
jugate these  people,  say  that  the  Arab  submits,  revolts,  and  sub- 
mits again,  again  to  commence  the  same  alternation  of  rebellion  and 

♦  Ksar  is  the  village  of  an  oasis  ;  Ksour  is  the  plural ;  and  Ksourian  the 
inhabitant. 


228  THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

obedience,  according  to  the  impulse  he  receives  from  his  own  interest 
or  caprice,  or  from  the  instigation  of  the  Maraboots ;  the  Berber 
loves  his  independence,  bat  when  once  he  has  been  made  to  feel  a 
mightier  power,  he  respects  the  oath  that  he  has  sworn.  The  Arab 
escapes  the  punishment  of  his  perfidy  by  plunging  with  his  tents  and 
flocks  into  deserts  where  no  army  can  follow ;  but  the  Berber  is 
confined  to  his  ksar  and  his  gardens. 

Dr.  Jacquot  describes  the  first  oasis  he  saw  in  Sahara  as  "a  little 
green  corner,  fresh  and  shady,  cheered  with  the  song  of  birds,  and 
enlivened  by  the  murmur  of  waters.  The  dates  waved  their  elegant 
plumes  high  in  the  air ;  the  pomegranates  and  fig-trees  crowded  be- 
tween the  columns  of  the  palms  ;  the  wheat  and  barley  clothed  the 
soil  with  verdure;  the  water  flowed  in  every  direction,  and  the 
humid  vapors  vivified  the  foliage.  One  could  not  help  trembling 
for  the  little  spot,  it  seemed  such  a  feeble  thing  in  the  immensity  of 
the  Desert,  surrounded  by  desolate  plains,  and  menaced  by  moving 
sandhills." 

This  little  oasis  is  about  five  eighths  of  a  mile  in  length,  and  a 
little  less  in  breadth.  It  occupies  the  bottom  of  a  narrow  ravine, 
which  shelters  it  in  almost  every  direction.  It  is  enclosed  by  a  mud 
wall  from  seven  to  ten  feet  high,  and  from  eight  to  twelve  inches 
thick,  flanked  with  about  five-and-twenty  round  towers,  generally 
built  of  stone.  These  are  the  sentry-boxes,  on  the  flat  roofs  of 
which  are  stationed  nightly  guards  to  protect  the  gardens  from  pil- 
lage. The  gardens  of  the  oasis  lie  against  the  general  wall,  and  are 
divided  into  a  number  of  small  enclosures,  each  of  which  is  a  separate 
property.  Next  to  the  gardens,  towards  the  centre,  are  the  fields 
of  corn,  barley,  and  onions,  likewise  divided  into  small  squares, 
which  are  watered  and  tended  like  our  favorite  flower-beds,  and 
through  the  midst  runs  the  Wady,  which  flows  from  four  springs  a 
little  above  the  ksar. 

Such  an  oasis  does  not  at  all  correspond  with  our  preconceived 
notions  of  these  islands  of  the  sandy  ocean.  It  is  not  the  immense 
wild  garden,  which  supplies  in  a  day  what  will  support  its  inhabi- 
tants for  a  year ;  it  is  not  a  spot  where  numerous  species  of  fruits 
and  flowers  crowd  and  mingle  in  luxuriant  confusion ;  it  is  not,  in 
short,  the  wild  primitive  oasis.  It  is  niggardly  nature,  cultivated 
even  to  torture  by  human  industry ;  it  is  wise,  modest,  economical 
husbandry,  which  rejects  the  ostentation  of  useless  foliage,  and  the 
empty  show  of  unproductive  blossoms ;  which  refuses  space  for  a 
single  tree  or  flower  that  is  merely  ornamental,  and  makes  room  for 
those  only  which  yield  food  for  the  sustenance  of  human  life.  The 
ksar  is  built  of  stone,  and  presents  the  appearance  of  a  single  build* 


THE    DESERTS    OF    AFRICA.  229 


ing,  or  rather  a  mass  of  heavy  masonry  |)crforatod  liere  and  there 
with  a  small  window,  and  diversiiicd  with  jutting  and  retiring 
angles.  The  flat  root's  rise  above  each  other  in  irregular  terraces, 
and  none  of  the  streets  are  open  to  the  exterior ;  they  are  closed  up 
with  masonry,  affording  no  entrance  but  by  four  narrow  doors.  In 
fact,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  we  should  call  a  street,  none  being 
open  to  the  heavens  above ;  they  are  narrow,  dark,  often  uneven 
passages  winding  under  the  buildings.  The  main  object  in  the  con- 
struction seems  to  have  been  to  pile  the  houses  compactly  together, 
avoiding  exterior  openings,  which  might  serve  for  the  admission  of 
an  enemy,  and  crowding  as  many  human  beings  as  possible  into  a 
given  space.  About  three  hundred  men,  women,  and  children,  a 
lymphatic,  sickly,  scrofulous  generation,  are  huddled  together  in  this 
ksar. 

Some  oases  are  considerably  larger  than  the  one  we  have  described, 
and  some  of  the  buildings  are  much  more  extensive ;  but  this  gen- 
eral plan,  both  as  to  the  gardens  and  the  dwellings,  seems  to  obtain 
throughout  the  northern  and  western  portions  of  Sahara,  where  the 
Berber  race  are  in  n-eneral  the  architects  and  husbandmen. 

The  most  interesting  structures,  however,  are  not  the  ksour,  but 
the  marabets,  or  sepulchral  chapels,  which  stand  outside  the  walls. 
These  are  generally  square,  and  surmounted  by  a  cupola,  the  whole 
being  of  stone  or  brickwork,  executed  by  artisans  brought  from 
Morocco  for  the  express  purpose.  Sometimes  the  principal  cupola 
is  flanked  by  four  secondary  ones,  the  interior  presenting  a  court, 
surrounded  by  a  gallery,  supported  by  Moorish  arcades.  The  ostrich 
egg,  instead  of  a  stone  or  metal  ball,  crowns  the  summit  of  these 
pyramids.  The  ksourians  choose  to  reserve  all  the  luxury  and  mag- 
nificence of  their  architecture  to  adorn  the  little  temples  around 
which  they  excavate  their  last  resting-places.  These  are  not,  like 
the  habitations  of  the  living,  subject  to  the  ravages  of  invading  foes, 
for  they  are  universally  held  sacred ;  and  the  conqueror,  covered 
with  blood,  approaches  here  with  reverence,  and  prostrates  himself 
in  lowly  worship.  Life  is  so  ephemeral  when  the  elements  of  nature 
and  the  arras  of  the  enemy  continually  threaten  its  existence,  that 
the  ksourian  cares  not  to  lavish  his  wealth  on  the  dwelling  in  which 
he  may  remain  but  for  a  day :  he  reserves  all  his  solicitude  for  that 
which  will  shelter  him  forever  from  the  storms  of  life. 

The  camel  and  the  date  are  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  African 
deserts  what  the  reindeer  and  the  lichen  are  to  those  of  the  polar 
reo-ions ;  and  while  many  of  the  less  enterprising  nomades  live  at 
*east  two  thirds  of  the  year  on  camels'  milk,  so  in  the  oases  dates 


230  THE   DESERTS    OF    AFRICA. 

are  the  staple  article  of  food,  and  aged  ksourians  may  be  found  who 
have  never  tasted  bread. 

The  tree  which  produces  this  valuable  fruit  is  the  palm,  which 
gives  so  peculiar  and  imposing  an  aspect  to  the  verdant  spots  of  the 
Desert.  Its  straight  and  lofty  trunk,  fifty,  sixty,  or  even  one  hun- 
dred feet  high,  is  crowned  by  a  tuft  of  large  radiating  leaves  or  fronds. 
The  calyx  has  six  divisions,  and  the  fruit  is  a  drupe,  consider- 
ably larger  than  an  acorn ;  of  a  full  red  color  when  ripe,  and  en- 
closing a  hard  kernel,  from  which  it  is  easily  sejDarated.  It  is  puljDy, 
firm,  esculent,  and  sweet,  with  slight  astringency.  The  trees  are 
raised  from  shoots,  which  arrive  at  maturity  in  thirty  years,  and. 
continue  in  full  bearing  for  seventy  longer,  producing  yearly  fifteen 
or  twenty  clusters,  which  may  weigh  from  fifteen  to  twenty  pounds 
each. 

When  any  one  wishes  to  make  a  date  plantation,  or  to  form  a 
garden,  as  the  natives  say,  he  summons  the  neighboring  proprietors 
to  his  assistance,  and  thus  accomplishes  his  work  with  economy  as 
well  as  despatch ;  for  their  services  cost  him  nothing  but  the  obliga- 
tion to  return  the  like  when  demanded :  the  only  auxiliaries  who 
receive  wages  are  those  who  are  not  proprietors.  The  whole  of 
the  sand  requires  to  be  removed  to  the  depth  of  several  feet,  in 
order  that  the  roots  may  reach  the  water ;  besides,  a  trench  is  dug 
round  every  stem  at  a  proper  distance,  and  into  this,  when  neces- 
sary, water  is  poured,  in  order  that,  sinking  through  the  soil,  it 
may  effectually  reach  those  fibres  that  chiefly  require  it.  This  irri- 
gation is  generally  committed  to  the  women  and  children  by  those 
who  have  no  slaves ;  and  the  precious  fluid  is  carried  in  skins  of 
animals,  or  baskets  of  halfa,  plaited  so  closely  as  to  be  water-tight. 
In  most  cases  canals  are  cut  in  every  direction,  communicating  with 
the  springs  which  supply  the  oasis ;  and  where  restriction  is  neces- 
sary, each  proprietor  pays  so  much  an  hour  for  the  flow  of  a  stream 
into  his  garden.  In  some  of  the  oases,  each  has  the  respective  right 
of  an  hour  or  two,  according  to  the  title-deeds  of  his  estate.  The 
time  is  measured  by  a  rude  chronometer  held  by  the  officer  who 
opens  and  shuts  the  conduit. 

Th*e  mode  of  preserving  dates  is  very  simple.  They  are  merely 
pressed  closely  together  in  large  woollen  bags,  and  thus  form  com- 
paet  masses,  which  keep  for  several  years.  Sometimes  a  large 
white  worm  is  engendered  in  these,  but  it  seems  to  occasion  no  dis- 
gust. Every  species  of  domestic  animal  in  the  Desert,  even  dog3 
and  horses,  can  make  a  meal  of  dates.  But  this  fruit,  however 
valuable,  is,  as  an  aliment,  very  inferior  to  the  cereals ;  it  is  capable 
of  less  variety  of  culinary  preparation,  and  through  time  it  produooa 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  281 


pamful  satiety  and  fatigue  of  the  digestive  organs.  "VVTiere  little 
else  is  to  be  had,  the  ksourian  employs  various  devices  to  alleviate 
the  monotony  of  his  fare :  he  cooks  his  dates  with  oil  or  butter,  or 
mingles  them  with  onions  and  other  vegetables,  which  are  usually 
cultivated  in  the  date  gardens.  But  the  favorite  ragout,  especially 
in  the  north,  consists  of  locusts  boiled  in  salt  and  water.  At  certain 
seasons  these  creatures  traverse  the  air  in  dense  clouds,  and  fall  in 
numbers  to  the  earth ;  they  are  collected  with  care,  and  those  wliich 
are  not  used  immediately,  are  dried  and  reduced  to  powder,  which 
is  kept  for  times  of  scarcity. 

The  sap  of  the  date-palm  furnishes  a  highly-esteemed  beverage, 
called  lagmi.  To  obtain  this,  it  is  necessary  to  cut  off  the  higher 
branches,  and  bore  a  lateral  hole  in  the  stem  thus  tonsured ;  into 
this  the  end  of  a  reed  is  introduced,  and  the  liquor  flows  through  it 
rapidly,  especially  in  the  morning  and  evening.  It  is  said  that  a 
single  tree  will  yield  fourteen  or  fifteen  quarts  daily  for  two  succes- 
sive years,  but  it  would  perish  in  the  third  if  the  bleeding  were 
continued.  The  taste  of  the  lagmi  is  not  unlike  sweet  barley-water, 
and  by  fermentation  it  may  be  transformed  into  an  excellent  drink 
resembling  cider. 

The  wood  of  the  palm-tree  is  used  for  buildhig :  the  trunk,  sawn 
in  two  along  the  grain,  furnishes  the  joists  and  rafters ;  the  palm  or 
jerid  is  placed  on  these  to  form  the  lathing,  and  sometimes  above  all 
is  placed  a  layer  of  saaf  or  palm-leaf.  All  articles  of  carpentry 
are  made  of  this  wood,  and  where  it  is  very  abundant  it  is  even 
used  for  fuel ;  but  more  generally  the  latter  consists  of  the  withered 
bushes  which  cover  the  sandy  plains,  where  they  are  gathered  by 
the  nomade  tribes  of  the  locality,  and  carried  to  the  oases. 

Every  part  of  this  valuable  tree  is  turned  to  account.  The 
fibrous  net-work  which  surrounds  the  branches  where  they  attach 
themselves  to  the  stem  is  twisted  into  strong  tough  ropes,  with  which 
the  camels  are  tethered :  the  branches,  besides  the  use  we  have  men- 
tioned, are  made  into  baskets  of  various  kinds,  and  the  stones  are 
pounded,  and  used  to  fatten  sheep  and  camels.  Thus  the  date-palm 
appears  to  be  in  Africa  what  the  cocoa-nut  is  in  the  islands  of  the 
Pacific  :  the  native  derives  from  it  food,  drink,  habitation,  and 
almost  every  utensil  he  employs.  In  those  places  where  money  is 
scarce  a  certain  measure  of  dates,  called  a  hatia^  serves  as  a  kind  of 
currency ;  it  is  at  least  a  usual  term  of  comparison  by  which  the 
value  of  various  articles  of  merchandise  is  estimated,  even  though 
the  measure  varies  in  different  places,  and  the  price  of  dates  rises 
and  falls  with  the  seasons. 

The  woollen  fabrics,  which,  with  the  cultivation  of  dates,  form 


232  THI   DESERTS   OF    AFRICA. 

the  principal  object  of  Saharian  industry,  arc  chiefly  burnooses, 
ha'iks,  and  gandouras.  The  biirnoose  is  the  Arab  cloak,  -which  is 
furnished  with  a  hood  ;  the  haik  is  a  long  rectangular  piece  of  cloth, 
which  the  men  wrap  round  their  heads,  allowing  the  ends  to  fall 
down  over  the  body,  while  the  women  use  it  as  a  shawl,  covering 
the  head  and  face  with  it,  especially  in  cold  weather.  The  gan- 
doura  is  a  kind  of  blouse,  which  reaches  down  to  the  feet.  Through- 
out the  Desert  the  manufacture  of  these  fabrics  is  devolved  entirely 
on  the  females,  the  men  considering  it  enough  if  they  attend,  and 
that  but  partially,  to  the  husbandry  ;  the  produce  of  the  two  occu- 
pations proves  in  the  market  of  about  equal  value  ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  the  merit  of  a  wife  in  the  Sahara  is  estimated  by  her  dexterity 
in  weaving  rather  than  by  her  personal  charms.  The  northern 
oases  produce  the  finest  goods ;  but  in  every  part  of  the  Desert  the 
women  make  some  attempt  at  manufacturing ;  even  those*  of  the 
nomade  tribes  weave  the  coarse  stuff  which  forms  their  tents  and 
the  sacks  for  loading  their  camels.  The  material  used  is  a  mixture, 
variously  proportioned,  of  the  hair  of  camels  and  goats;  the  former 
raises  the  price,  as  it  is  considered  more  impervious  to  rain.  The 
color  of  the  tents  is  that  by  which  the  great  nomade  tnbes,  when 
encamped,  distinguish  each  other  from  afar,  the  darkest  being  the 
most  aristocratic. 

The  Arab  dress  is  used  both  by  nomades  and  ksourians.  They 
shave  the  head,  preserving  only  the  lock  of  which  the  Angel  of 
Death  is  to  lay  hold  and  carry  them  up  to  paradise.  This  religious 
belief  has  set  a  peculiar  stamp  on  all  the  nations  of  Islamism ;  and 
if  the  disciple  of  Mohammed  makes  a  point  of  decapitating  his 
already  lifeless  foe,  it  is  not  for  the  sake  of  connnitting  a  wanton 
outrage  on  the  corpse,  but  in  order  to  make  him  feel,  ev^en  in  another 
world,  the  weight  of  his  vengeance ;  for  a  headless  body  is  doomed 
to  rot  on  the  ground,  and  the  soul  that  animated  it  to  wander  fof- 
ever  far  from  the  happy  gardens  promised  in  the  Koran  as  tlie 
eternal  residence  of  the  faithful. 

A  white  woollen  haik,  a  kind  of  frock  without  sleeves,  Morocco 
slippers,  and  a  silk  girdle,  compose  the  dress  of  the  wealthier  female 
Saharians.  Necklaces,  bracelets,  and  rings,  complete  the  toilet  of  a 
woman  of  quality,  who  besides  stains  her  eyelashes  black,  and  gives 
a  yellow  color  to  her  nails,  the  palms  of  her  hands,  and  the  instep 
of  her  foot,  with  a  decoction  of  lausonia  inermis.  Tattooing,  the 
indelible  and  economical  adornment  both  of  rich  and  poor,  consists 
only  of  small  and  scattered  designs — the  Saharian  population  being 
in  this  respect  far  behind  the  great  artists  of  New  Zealand.  They 
go  unveiled,  and  seem  under  less  restriction  than  is  usu^  in  most 


THE    DESERTS    OF    AFRICA.  233 

other  communities  of  Islamism.    Polygamy  is  freely  indulged  with- 
in the  limits  prescribed  by  the  Koran. 

Indolence  seems  to  be  the  besetting  sin  of  all  the  tribes  of  the 
Sahara :  when  not  travelling,  they  will  sleep  in  the  open  air  twenty 
hours  out  of  the  twenty-four ;  yet,  when  excited  by  any  serious  oc- 
currence or  important  interest,  they  are  capable  of  acting  with  con- 
siderable energy,  and  sustaining  great  fatigue.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever, they  seem  better  adapted  for  patient  toil  and  endurance  than 
for  vigorous  and  enterprising  activity.  Pride  and  ostentation  are 
distinsruishino;  features  of  their  character ;  and  on  the  other  hand 
are  the  patriarchal  virtues  of  reverence  for  parents,  obedience  to  all 
constituted  authority,  and  cordial  hospitality  towards  strangers. 
That,  however,  which  strikes  a  stranger  perhaps  most  of  all,  is  their 
unparalleled  resignation  to  what  they  believe  to  be  the  divine  will ; 
that  "  it  is  decreed,"  seems  to  reconcile  them  to  the  severest  suffer- 
ings, and  not  a  murmur  escapes  from  their  lips.  Nor  must  we  omit 
to  mention  the  fertile  imagination,  of  which  the  Arab  has  lost  noth- 
ing by  being  translated  from  the  deserts  of  Asia  to  those  of  Africa  : 
every  spot  has  its  legend,  every  rock  its  marvellous  tale ;  a  good 
story-teller  is  welcomed  and  feasted  under  every  tent,  where  the 
family,  squatting  in  a  circle,  listen  with  avidity  to  tales,  in  which 
the  Deity  is  continually  represented  as  revealing  himself  to  man  by 
miraculous  interferences. 

Within  the  last  few  years  considerable  light  has  been  thrown  on 
the  social  condition  of  the  northern  tribes,  and  interesting  particu- 
lars have  been  collected  respecting  their  periodical  migrations.  The 
nomades  pass  the  winter  and  spring  in  the  open  Desert,  where,  dur- 
ing this  part  of  the  year,  they  find  both  water  and  vegetation ;  but 
they  sojourn  only  three  or  four  days  in  one  spot,  and  strike  their 
tents  as  soon  as  the  pasture  is  consumed.  Towards  the  end  of 
spring  they  visit  the  oases  where  their  goods  are  deposited,  load 
their  camels  with  dates  and  woollen  cloth,  and  proceed  northward, 
taking  with  them  the  whole  nomade  city,  including  women,  children, 
dogs,  flocks,  and  tents.  Now,  the  waters  of  Sahara  are  drying  up, 
and  the  plants  are  withering,  while  in  the  Tell  the  grain  is  ripening. 
They  arrive  in  the  season  of  harvest,  when  the  price  of  coin  is  low, 
and  the  juncture  is  doubly  favorable  for  abandoning  the  now  sterile 
Sahara,  and  finding  the  markets  of  the  Tell  overflowing  with  cereals 
Here,  then,  they  spend  the  summer  months  in  the  activities  of  com- 
merce, exchanging  their  dates  and  woollen  goods  for  barley,  raw 
wool,  sheep,  and  butter.  Now,  also,  the  lands  of  the  Tell  are  vacant, 
the  harvest  having  been  gathered  in;  and  the  soil  is  improved 
rather  than  injured  by  thdir  eattle,  which  are  permitted  freely  to 


234  THE  DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

browse  upon  it.  The  close  of  summer  is  the  signal  for  departure — 
a  summons  hailed  with  joy,  as  announcing  the  time  for  returning 
to  their  native  country.  Again  loading  their  camels  and  striking 
their  tents,  the  moving  cities  turn  towards  the  south,  and  make  their 
way  into  the  Desert  by  short  journeys  as  they  came.  They  arrive 
at  the  oases  just  when  the  dates  are  ripe — that  is,  toward  the  end 
of  October;  a  month  is  required,  even  with  their  assistance,  to 
gather  and  house  them ;  another  is  spent  in  exchanging  their  corn, 
barley,  raw  wool,  &c.,  for  the  dates  which  have  been  gathered,  and 
the  woollen  fabrics  which  have  been  produced  during  the  year  by 
female  industry.  These  are  now  carefully  deposited  in  the  maga- 
zines, and  the  nomade  tribes  retire  from  the  oases,  conducting  their 
flocks  from  pasture  to  pasture  in  the  open  country,  till  the  return 
of  summer  demands  a  repetition  of  the  same  journeyings  and  the 
same  labors.  During  the  date  harvest,  a  load  of  corn  in  the 
Desert  is  worth  two  of  dates;  while  in  the  Tell,  at  the  corn  harvest, 
a  load  of  dates  is  worth  two  of  grain.  This  geueral  rule  is  subject 
to  little  variation ;  so  that  if  a  grower  conducts  his  traffic  without 
any  intermediate  agent,  he  realizes  a  profit  of  three  hundred  per 
cent. 

The  extensive  tract  of  country  which  lies  between  the  line  from 
Agabli  to  Timbuctoo,  and  that  from  Gadamis  to  Kashna,  is  the 
principal  though  not  the  only  range  of  the  Touarik.^  They  constitute 
not  a  tribe  merely,  but  a  great  nation,  divided  into  several  sections, 
of  which  each  has  its  sultan  and  subordinate  chiefs.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  form  any  correct  estimate  of  their  numbers.  A  large  pro- 
portion are  pastoral  tribes,  feeding  their  flocks  in  the  desert  wastes ; 
the  rest  are  engaged  in  commerce  and  piracy.  Several  large  towns 
and  numerous  villages  along  the  frontiers  of  Soudan  and  in  the 
Hogger  jMountains  serve  them  as  depots.  The  Touarik  are  a  white- 
skinned  race,  and  supposed  to  be  a  branch  of  the  Atlas  family,  older 
and  purer  than  the  Berber :  their  language  is  a  dialect  of  that 
spoken  by  the  Berbers  of  the  Tell  and  the  northern  oases,  but 
characterized  by  a  roughness  which  has  led  to  its  being  called  by 
Europeans  the  "  German  of  the  Desert :"  it  seems  to  approximate 
most  to  the  language  of  the  Gouanches,  the  aborigines  of  the  Canary 
Islands. 

Placed  between  the  white  race  and  the  black,  the  Touarik  are  the 
terror  of  both,  and  appear  now  with  savage  ferocity  to  avenge  them- 
selves on  the  descendants  of  those  who  drove  their  fathers  into  tlw 
Deserts.    That  section  of  them  which  is  fcaud  along  the  borders  of 


'O 


♦  The  singular  is  TaigUee. 


THE   DESERTS    OF    AFRICA.  235 

Soudan  is  said  to  be  in  the  highest  degree  sanguinary  and  faithless. 
To  ambush  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  little  towns  inhabited  by 
negroes — to  rush  upon  them  at  dead  of  night — to  seize  them,  throw 
them  on  their  meharees,  and  fly  with  the  swiftness  of  the  wind — 
such  is  the  principal  branch  of  industry  pursued  by  these  formi- 
dable robbers.  When  they  have  formed  a  sufficient  collection  of 
hapless  victims,  they  repair  to  the  market  of  Ghat  or  Ghadamis, 
and  sell  them  to  the  merchants  of  the  north  who  frequent  those 
towns.  Sometimes,  after  having  delivered  to  the  purchasers  all  that 
they  obtained  in  the  "  razia,"  as  negro-hunting  or  stealing  is  called, 
they  set  out  again,  waylay  the  caravan  of  their  customers,  and  bear 
away  the  slaves  whom  they  have  so  recently  sold.  The  merchants 
may,  if  they  please,  return  to  the  market,  purchase  them  a  second 
time,  and  take  care  to  hire  a  strono;  enough  escort  before  under tak- 
mg  the  journey  again. 

Along  the  route  from  Demergon  and  Kashna  to  Ghadamis,  the 
various  Touarik  act  as  convoys  to  merchant-caravans ;  but  in  every 
other  direction,  and  especially  on  the  frequented  lines  between  Tim- 
buctoo  and  the  oases  of  Twat,  they  plunder  without  mercy.  Though 
they  wander  through  every  part  of  Central  Africa  and  the  Desert,  none 
of  them  can  be  prevailed  on  to  ^^sit  the  coast ;  and  the  inhabitants 
of  Morocco,  Algeria,  and  Tripoli,  know  them  only  by  the  report 
of  the  Arab  tribes  who  traverse  the  northern  portions  of  Sahara. 

It  is  worth  while  here  to  remark  the  errors  that  attach  to  hear- 
ing only  one  side  of  a  story,  especially  with  reference  to  regions  so 
imperfectly  known.  The  more  recent  English  travellers,  as  Andney, 
Clapperton,  and  Kichardson,  having  entered  the  Desert  by  Tripoli, 
and  pursued  the  route  which  the  Touarik  keep  under  their  exclusive 
control,  found  them  much  less  formidable  than  they  anticipated ;  but 
they  speak  of  the  Shanbah  as  banditti  of  the  most  ruthless  and 
recldess  character,  who,  having  no  stake  like  the  Touarag  in  the 
commerce  of  the  Desert,  have  been  celebrated  from  time  immemo- 
rial as  the  robbers  and  assassins  of  Sahara.  "  To  be  a  brigand,"  says 
Mr.  Richardson,  "  is  with  them  a  hereditary  honor  ;  and  they  are 
the  dread  of  the  people  of  Wad-reklah,  as  well  as  of  foreign  mer- 
chants and  caravans.  They  have  a  well  scooped  out  in  the  sandy 
regions  where  their  tents  are  pitched ;  and  here  they  live  in  horrid 
security,  defying  all  law  and  authority,  human  and  divine.  Around 
them  is  an  immensity  of  sandy  wastes,  and  none  dare  pursue  them 
into  their  dens.  Horses  would  be  useless,  and  it  would  require, 
says  the  Ghadamsee  Rais,  two  hundred  men,  with  four  hundred 
camels,  eight  hmidred  water  skins,  and  provisions  for  two  months, 


2o6  THE    DESERTS   OF   AFBICA. 

to  make  the  least  impression  on  them.   Their  numbers  are  recruited 
from  various  other  Arab  tribes,  whose  outlaws  join  their  ranks." 

The  French  writers,  on  the  other  hand,  represent  the  Shanbah, 
or  Ciia'ambi,  whom  it  is  their  interest  to  conciliate,  from  their  prox- 
imity to  Algeria,  as  the  most  industrious  and  enterprising  merchants 
of  the  Desert,  and  the  Touarag  as  the  parasites,  the  corsairs — in 
fact,  the  only  redoubtable  enemies  to  be  feared  in  the  sandy  ocean. 
The  truth  is,  that  the  Touarag  and  the  Shanbah  are  neighbors,  and 
at  the  same  time  deadly,  irreconcilable,  and  national  foes ;  the  Mtter 
being  pure  Arabs,  and  the  former  the  aboriginal  race  of  the  country. 
Generally,  there  remains  a  considerable  space  between  them ;  but  if 
the  nomade  tribes  reach  at  the  same  time  the  furthest  limits  of  their 
respective  territories,  a  collision  is  inevitable.  Plunder  is  the  main 
object  of  the  Shanbah,  and  their  preparations  include  means  of 
transport  as  well  as  weapons  of  war.  The  principal  objects  of  their 
desire  are  meharees  and  slaves,  or,  if  they  can  get  nothing  better, 
camels  and  sheep.  Sometimes,  however,  they  carry  off  nothing  but 
the  killed  and  wounded :  such  are  the  chances  of  war.  Vengeance 
for  these  assaults,  and  a  deep-settled  abhorrence  of  the  Shanbah 
tribe,  seem  to  be  the  great  excitements  to  warfare  on  the  part  of 
the  chivalrous  Touarag ;  and  the  recital  of  their  adventures  is  car- 
ried by  each  party  to  their  homes  —  the  French  nation  receiving 
the  Arab  story  with  embellishments,  through  their  tributaries,  while 
those  who  pass  by  Ghat  and  Ghadamis  hear  the  other  side. 

In  the  .Deserts  of  Africa,  as  well  as  in  those  of  Asia,  the  hand 
of  the  Arab  is  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand  against 
him ;  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  throughout  the  Sahara  a  stranger 
and  an  enemy,  a  merchant  and  a  robber,  are  terms  nearly  synony- 
mous ;  that  hostile  tribes  seldom  meet  without  collision  ;  and  that  pil- 
lage is  the  unquestioned  right  of  the  victor.  Yet  in  the  Targhee 
towns  theft  is  said  to  be  quite  unknown,  except  as  occasionally 
practised  by  the  tributaries  or  slaves.  Fidelity  and  hospitality 
seem  also  to  distinguish  these  rovers :  those  who  commit  themselves 
to  their  protection  will  be  defended  with  the  last  drop  of  their  blood, 
and  nothing  is  so  offensive  to  the  high-minded  Targhee  as  to  be  dis- 
trusted. The  reader  smiles,  perhaps,  at  the  very  mention  of  chiv- 
alry, high-mindedness,  and  the  demand  of  confidence  in  connection 
with  the  freebooters  of  the  Sahara ;  but  let  him  know  that  through- 
out the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Desert  they  carry  the  letters  of 
the  merchants  unsealed,  yet  sacredly  inviolable.  If  an  inquisitive 
European  asks  to  see  them,  he  is  peremptorily  informed  that  it  is 
haram  (prohibited)  to  read  these  documents. 

Besides  their  revengeful  and  piratical  habits,  which  are  indeed 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  237 

legitimate  causes  of  dread,  the  singularity  of  their  appearance  and 
manner  combine  to  render  the  Touarag  objects  of  terror  throughout 
the  Desert.  They  are  tall,  some  of  them  even  gigantic,  and  gener- 
ally slender  and  nimble ;  hence  the  Arabs  give  them  the  appellation 
of  lath  or  beam  —  beams  which  become  transformed  into  living 
catapults  when  they  are  animated  by  the  desire  either  of  pillage  or 
vengeance.  While  the  Arab  dress  is  used  by  all  the  other  inhabi- 
tants of  the  Desert,  the  Touarag  maintains  a  peculiar  costume.  It 
consists  of  wide  pantaloons,  and  a  variable  number  of  vestments,  in 
the  form  of  loose  gowns  or  blouses,  with  wide  sleeves.  These  are 
made  of  a  cotton  cloth  called  saie,  which  is  brought  from  the  negro 
country ;  it  is  only  a  few  inches  broad,  generally  of  different  shades 
of  blue,  and  variously  striped.  Whether  in  the  town  or  tent,  they 
generally  wear  at  least  three  of  thesS  garments,  the  outermost  of 
which  is  ornamented  with  rich  embroidery  in  gold,  forming  irregular 
designs,  and  particularly  heavy  on  the  left  breast  and  right  shoulder- 
blade.  When  they  betake  themselves  to  the  open  country,  they 
add  other  two  blouses  of  a  dark  blue  color,  and  the  haik  or  barracan, 
which  is  a  long  woollen  scarf,  worn  over  the  shoulders.  But  the 
great  distinguishing  feature  of  the  male  Targhee  dress  is  the  litham ; 
a  thin  piece  of  cloth  wound  round  the  head,  and  then  covering  the 
forehead,  the  ej^es  partially,  and  the  mouth  and  chin.  The  stuff  of 
which  this  is  composed  is  varnished  with  gum,  to  prevent  the  adhe- 
sion of  the  sand :  thus  are  the  mouth  and  eyes  defended  from  cut- 
ting winds  and  drifting  sands,  and  the  wearer  can  travel  several 
days  longer  without  feeling  parched  in  the  absence  of  water.  The 
Touarag  pluck  out  the  beard,  contrary  to  the  usage  of  the  Berbers 
and  Arabs,  among  whom  it  is  a  sacred  ornament.  A  huge  spear  is 
carried  in  the  right  hand,  the  dagger  is  fastened  under  the  left 
arm,  and  the  sword  swings  behind.  We  must  not  omit  to  mention, 
also,  that  a  profusion  of  talismans  are  strung  round  the  neck ;  and 
so  great  is  the  confidence  attached  to  them,  that  similar  charms  are 
hung  round  their  meharees,  to  preserve  them  from  the  mange,  and 
even  on  the  date  trees,  to  save  them  from  blight. 

"  Though  professing  the  Moslem  faith,"  say  our  French  inform- 
ants, "  the  Touarag  are  not  considered  by  any  means  very  scrupu- 
lous in  the  performance  of  its  duties."  It  seems  that  those  who  live 
in  or  near  the  negro  country  mingle  the  idolatrous  rites  of  Feti- 
chism  with  the  observances  of  the  Koran ;  but  the  Arabs  look  upon 
the  whole  race  as  heretics,  from  the  singularity  of  their  language 
and  costume,  and  especially  from  the  fact  that  in  the  shape  of  their 
weapons  and  the  designs  of  their  ornaments  they  manifest  a  decided 
predilection  for  the  form  of  the  cross,  so  abhorrent  to  those  Mussui- 


238  THE   DESERTS   OF   APRICA. 


mans  that  recognize  in  it  the  emblem  of  the  Christian  faith.  The 
handle  of  the  Targhee  sabre  and  the  front  of  the  saddle  take  this 
shape,  and  the  cross  is  the  favorite  pattern  of  the  embroidery  on  his 
dress.  It  is  doubtless  with  indignant  reference  to  these  departures 
from  orthodoxy  that  the  Arabs  of  Sahara  denominate  the  Touarag 
the  "  Christian  of  the  Desert."  Yet  our  English  travellers  de- 
scribe them  as  spiteful  in  their  religious  bigotry,  if  not  scruj)ulous 
in  their  practice.  Children  scarcely  two  years  old  would  run  out 
of  their  dwelling,  spitting  and  crying,  "  Kafer !  Kafer ! " —  (infidel !) 
The  wonderful  descriptions  which  these  gentlemen  gave  of  European 
arts,  for  the  entertainment  of  the  natives,  were  constantly  answered 
by  the  remark  —  "  Christians  know  everything  but  God."  As  Mr. 
Richardson  sat  one  day  in  the  open  court  of  his  house,  about  an 
hour  and  a  half  before  sunset,  during  the  great  feast  called  Rama- 
dan, a  Targhee  entered,  and  standing  before  him  in  an  erect  posture, 
with  his  long  spear  in  the  right  hand,  he  stretched  the  left  towards 
heaven,  looked  upwards,  and  addressed  him  in  a  solemn,  measured 
tone :  "  And  —  thou  —  Christian  !  thou  —  fastest  —  thus  !  Thy 
father  —  knoweth  —  not  —  God !  Thou  art  a  Kafer  —  he  is  a 
Kafer  —  and  the  fire  will  devour  you  both  at  last !  " 

The  female  Touarag  are  said  to  be  "  fair  as  Christian  women," 
pretty,  coquettish,  and  saucy.  Their  dress  is  very  simple,  consist- 
ing merely  of  a  chemise  and  short-sleeved  frock,  with  a  ha'ik.  They 
wear  bracelets,  anklets,  &c.,  of  painted  wood,  if  they  cannot  afibrd 
the  precious  metals ;  and  round  their  necks  are  hung  talismans, 
pieces  of  coral,  and  occasionally  small  mirrors.  They  go  unveiled, 
and  seem  at  perfect  liberty ;  for  here,  again,  the  Targhee  character 
differs  from  the  Arab  in  the  absence  of  that  conjugal  jealousy  which 
marks  the  Mussulman  of  the  East.  The  perfection  of  Targhee 
beauty  is  not  emhoiipoint^  like  the  Mooresses  and  Negresses;  but, 
as  the  Arabs  say  or  sing,  "  Slender  as  the  bending  rush,  or  taper 
lance  of  Yemen." 

Another  point  of  civilization  in  which  this  race  are  in  advance  of 
both  the  Moors  and  Arabs  is,  that  spoons  are  in  very  general  use 
among  them.  These  are  made  of  wood,  and  exceedingly  neat  —  a 
negro  manufacture,  as  we  remarked  of  the  cotton  cloth. 

Of  all  the  tribes  of  Africa,  the  Touarag  alone  have  an  indigenous 
alphabet,  and  most  of  them  read  and  write  their  own  characters 
—  not  indeed  on  paper  or  parchment,  but  on  the  sand  and  the  dark 
rocks  with  which  their  country  abounds. 

Their  principal  market  is  Ghat,  and  their  capital  Agades.  The 
latter  is  a  fine  town,  built  like  Tunis :  it  is  the  residence  of  the 
sultan  of  one  section  of  the  Touarag.     The  subordinate  chiefs  exer- 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  239 

cise  much  authority ;  and,  on  the  whole,  the  government  seems  to 
be  a  kind  of  irregular  oligarchy.  That  which  renders  travelling  so 
dangerous  here,  as  in  every  part  of  the  Desert,  is,  that  the  stranger 
may  place  himself  under  the  protection  of  a  convoy  at  Agades,  for 
example,  but  his  way  may  be  through  the  territory  of  a  difi'erent  or 
even  a  hostile  tribe  of  the  same  nation ;  and  he  has  no  security  in 
case  of  meeting  with  a  stronger  party  belonging  to  it.  Timbuctoo 
is  the  goal  which  the  European  adventurer  generally  wishes  to 
attain ;  but  the  Touarag  who  command  the  route  south  from  Gha- 
damis  will  not  undertake  to  protect  him  westward,  because  those  who 
surround,  and  indeed  blockade,  Timbuctoo,  are  not  amenable  to  tho 
government  at  Agades. 

Aheer  is  another  important  oasis  of  the  Touarag.  Its  houses, 
unlike  those  of  the  Berbers,  are  circular,  and  stand  far  asunder, 
so  that  they  spread  over  a  considerable  space.  They  are  built  of 
small  stones  mixed  with  red  earth ;  a  dome  of  thatch  forms  the 
roofing ;  and,  as  a  security  against  the  wind,  each  dwelling  has  four 
doors,  one  looking  to  each  point  of  the  compass.  The  wells  are  con- 
stantly supplied  with  water,  and  there  are  cisterns  to  receive  that 
which  falls  from  the  clouds.  This  neighborhood  is  the  favorite  soil 
of  the  senna  plant.  Its  flowers  are  yellow,  the  leaves  very  large, 
and,  except  at  the  edges,  of  a  dark  purple  color.  Large  quantities 
of  it  are  sent  northward,  packed  in  sacks  of  palm  leaves,  which 
require  to  be  renewed  at  Ghat.  The  natives  wonder  what  we  do 
with  so  much  medicine :  they  have  no  idea  of  the  millions  of  Euro- 
pean population  ;  still  less  of  the  quantity  and  variety  of  eatables 
and  drinkables  with  which  we  overload  and  disorder  the  digestive 
system.  The  people  of  the  Sahara  use  very  little  physic ;  their 
principal  demands  on  the  healing  art  are  occasioned  by  external  in- 
juries, for  which  burning,  bleeding,  and  charms  are  their  favorite 
remedies.  To  these  some  add  manipulation,  and  after  a  severe 
fall  every  muscle  is  stretched,  rubbed,  and  coaxed  with  the  utmost 
assiduity. 

In  all  his  expeditions,  whether  honest  or  dishonest,  the  meharee 
is  the  inseparable  companion  of  the  Targhee.  It  seems  to  bear  the 
same  relation  to  the  common  camel  that  the  racer  does  to  the 
draught  horse  ;  but  of  all  animals  it  is  perhaps  that  which,  from  the 
nature  of  the  country  it  inhabits,  and  of  the  service  it  is  doomed  to 
perform,  has  been  the  least  made  an  object  of  observation  and  study. 
The  only  country  that  agrees  with  it  is  the  Central  Desert :  it  can- 
not live  either  in  the  northern  part  of  Africa  or  in  the  mouLtainous 
country  of  Nigritia.  Even  every  part  of  the  Desert  does  not  seem  to 
agree  equally  well  with  it;   for  the  Shanbah  and  thtj  Ommadi, 


240  THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA. 

though  very  covetous  of  these  animals,  rear  few  if  any  for  them« 
selves.  Nature  seems  to  have  appropriated  them  to  the  special  ser- 
vice of  the  Targhee.  They  are  the  affectionate  companions  of  his 
roving  life,  the  docile,  intelligent,  and  disinterested  instrument  of 
his  piracies.  The  servant  and  the  master  seem  to  have  been  casfe 
in  the  same  mould.  The  meharee  is  very  tall,  and,  from  being  of 
light  and  slender  make,  appears  to  stand  considerably  higher  than 
the  camel.  His  neck  is  remarkably  long,  his  legs  thin  and  deli- 
cate, and  his  bunch  projects  but  little.  His  countenance,  like  that 
of  the  camel,  is  careless  and  imperturbable ;  but,  under  this  sorry 
aspect  and  seeming  indolence,  he  conceals  qualities  which  might 
almost  make  him  the  king  of  beasts  —  a  fidelity  and  gentleness 
which  are  proof  against  every  trial,  a  sagacity  resembling  that  of  the 
dog,  and  a  swiftness  far  superior  to  that  of  the  horse.  Like  his 
master,  he  has  a  physical  organization  adapted  to  the  region  in 
which  his  lot  is  cast  —  in  the  midst  of  immense  plains,  between  an 
arid  soil  and  a  burning  sun,  compelled  to  travel  great  distances  in 
search  of  food,  and  continually  exposed  to  the  sultry  breath  of  the 
south  wind,  he  is  endowed  with  singular  powers  of  resistance  to  all 
these  elements  of  destruction.  Accustomed  to  the  scanty  herbage 
afforded  by  his  native  sands,  the  meharee  does  not  seem  to  feel  it 
any  luxury  to  browse  on  the  richer  pastures  of  the  coast ;  he  is 
made  for  the  Desert,  sterile  and  ungracious  as  it  is,  and  can  live 
nowhere  else.  The  Arabs  attribute  the  danger  of  his  expatriation 
to  a  poisonous  little  plant  called  drias,  which  does  not  grow  in  the 
Targhee  country,  but  is  so  like  a  wholesome  one  on  which  the  ani- 
mal is  accustomed  to  feed,  that  he  crops  it  without  perceiving  the 
difference,  and  perishes  the  victim  of  his  mistake.  However  this 
may  be,  meharees  seldom  appear  even  in  the  northern  oases,  except 
at  Metili  and  Wad-reklah,  whither  they  are  occasionally  brought  by 
the  Shanbah,  who  have  purchased  or  stolen  them  from  their  natural 
masters. 

As  the  transport  of  goods  rarely  demands  great  speed,  the  com- 
mon camel  is  almost  exclusively  used  for  this  purpose,  the  maharee 
being  reserved  for  services  requiring  expedition.  He  renders  val- 
uable assistance  to  caravans  which,  when  preparing  to  set  out,  gen- 
erally despatch  avant-couriers,  mounted  on  swift  coursers,  to  recon- 
noitre the  route,  and  ascertain  whether  it  is  supplied  with  water,  and 
whether  beset  with  any  danger.  But  it  appears  that  the  meharee 
cannot  and  does  not  make  any  companionship  with  the  coast  camel. 
If  the  two  incidentally  meet,  both  show  agitation  and  alarm ;  but 
the  camel  confesses  its  inferiority  by  scampering  off  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble     The  natives  divide  their  meharee,  or  meharees,  into  ten 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  241 

classes,  according  to  their  swiftness ;  the  lowest  comprehends  those 
which  can  make  about  twenty-five  of  our  miles  in  a  day,  and  the 
highest  those  which  clear  eight  or  nine  times  that  space.  It  is  con- 
fidently asserted  that  a  good  meharee  can  travel  seventy  or  eighty 
miles,  day  after  day  continuously ;  and  that,  in  an  extreme  case, 
one  of  them  made  the  journey  from  Ghadamis  to  Tripoli,  a  distance 
of  about  260  of  our  miles,  in  one  day,  but  the  rider  expired  from 
exhaustion  immediately  on  his  arrival. 

The  mode  of  rearing  this  favorite  animal  is  curious.  As  soon  as 
he  is  born  he  is  plunged  to  the  neck  in  fine  shifting  sand,  lest  his 
soft  and  slender  limbs  should  be  bent  by  supporting  the  weight  of 
his  body;  and  for  fourteen  days  he  is  fed  on  a  diet  chiefly  of  but- 
ter and  milk,  the  composition  and  quantity  of  which  vary  every 
day,  according  to  established  and  well-known  rules.  At  the  end 
of  a  month  he  is  allowed  to  run ;  an  iron  ring  is  then  passed 
through  his  nose,  and  his  education  commences.  When  well 
trained,  the  meharee  displays  remarkable  sagacity.  If  his  rider 
chooses  to  plant  his  spear  in  the  ground,  in  the  midst  of  a  rapid 
course,  the  animal,  attentive  to  the.  slightest  intimation  of  his 
wishes,  turns  round  the  weapon,  to  enable  him  to  regain  it,  and 
resumes  the  course  without  slackening  his  pace  for  a  moment. 
When  the  warrior  falls  in  battle,  the  faithful  charger  stretches  him- 
self on  the  ground,  as  if  inviting  him  again  to  mount  his  back.  If 
he  is  able  to  do  so,  he  bears  him  gently  but  swiftly  from  the  scene 
of  carnage ;  but  if  the  Targhee  remains  silent  and  motionless,  the 
meharee  hastens  to  the  town  or  douar*  of  his  habitation,  exhibiting 
the  empty  saddle  to  the  bereaved  family.  The  women  now  com- 
mence the  death-dirge  —  the  children  set  up  piercing  cries  —  the 
whole  community  is  thrown  into  excitement  and  alarm,  and  the 
horizon  is  watched  with  anxious  solicitude.  Some  spots  appear  — 
they  increase  —  they  approach  ;  they  are  other  meharees  without 
their  riders  —  mute  but  truthful  messengers  of  sorrow,  confirming 
the  inlelligence  that  the  troop  has  been  defeated,  and  the  loved 
ones  are  no  more.  The  animals  seldom  all  return,  however  —  the 
victors  generally  succeed  in  capturing  some  of  them;  and  they 
bring  a  high  price  when  exposed  for  sale.  A  good  meharee  cannot 
be  had  for  less  than  720  boujous  (about  £30  sterling) ;  whereas  a 
3ommon  camel  costs  about  50  (£3  15s).  It  is,  therefore,  among 
all  the  tribes  except  the  Touarik,  an  unusual  and  aristocratic  means 
of  locomotion. 

Eastward  of  the  route  between  Fezzan  and  Bornoo  commences  a 

*  A  village  of  tents. 
16 


242  THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA. 

black  population  denominated  Tibboos,  and  supposed  to  numbei 
150,000.  This  is  a  native  race,  probably  of  gi-eat  antiquity,  and 
enumerated  by  geographers  as  one  of  the  branches  of  the  Atlaa 
family.  Though  black,  the  style  of  their  features  is  strikingly  dis- 
similar to  the  negro.  They  are  described  as  a  gay,  lively,  thought- 
less race,  with  all  the  African  passion  for  the  song  and  the  dance, 
which  last  they  practise  with  considerable  grace.  Their  occupa- 
tions are  chiefly  pastoral,  and  their  principal  subsistence  is  derived 
from  the  milk  of  their  camels.  Besides,  they  carry  on  a  small 
ti'affic  with  the  north  in  slaves,  which  they  kidnap  in  the  negro 
country ;  and  with  the  south  in  the  natron  and  salt,  which  their 
country  produces  in  abundance.  Bilma  is  their  capital  —  a  mean 
collection  of  mud  hovels,  but  surrounded  by  lakes  containing  the 
purest  salt.  A  predatory  warfare  is  kept  up  between  the  Tibboos 
and  their  powerful  neighbors  the  Touarik.  In  open  fight  the  Tib- 
boos have  no  chance ;  when  invaded,  they  climb  the  rocks  in  the 
shelter  of  which  their  villages  are  always  built,  carrying  with  them 
whatever  they  can  remove.  The  Touarik  sweep  away  all  that  is 
left,  and  load  their  camels  with  the  salt  which  is  so  valuable  as  an 
article  of  trade.  In  return,  the  Tibboos  give  considerable  annoy- 
ance by  frequent  and  stealthy  incursions  into  the  Targhee  country. 

A  singular  feature  in  the  social  character  of  the  Tibboos  is  said 
to  be  the  dominance  of  the  female  sex  in  the  hut  and  the  tent. 
The  man  may  be  the  lord  of  creation  in  the  open  country,  where, 
indeed,  he  passes  two  thirds  of  his  time,  but  at  home  he  is  knocked 
about  at  the  pleasure  of  his  managing  spouse.  When  a  caravan 
for  salt  is  coming  from  Aheer,  the  men  turn  out  and  betake  them- 
selves to  the  mountains,  with  provision  for  a  month,  leaving  the 
women  to  transact  the  business. 

Throughout  the  Saharian  Desert,  an  aristocracy  seems  to  attach 
to  the  blood  of  the  saints,  and  some  of  the  Maraboot  tribes  are 
among  the  most  wealthy  and  powerful  to  be  met  with.  Such  are 
the  Shereefs,  who,  in  1516,  overthrew  the  dynasty  of  Morocco,  and 
placed  on  the  throne  one  of  their  own  sheiks,  by  whose  family  it  is 
still  occupied.  By  this  tribe  is  conducted  most  of  the  commerce 
of  Morocco  eastward  through  the  northern  states,  which  they  sup« 
ply  with  their  own  and  European  manufactures ;  and  also  to  Twat, 
where  they  command  several  oases.  The  Oulad-sidi-Sheiks  are 
another  venerable  tribe,  who  claim  descent  from  a  favorite  caliph 
of  the  Prophet ;  and  who,  by  their  numbers,  nobility,  wealth,  and 
sanctity,  exercise  a  powerful  influence  throughout  the  date  country. 
In  token  of  their  aristocracy,  they  dwell  under  tents  of  black 
woollen  fabric,  surmounted  with  ostrich  plumes,  of  which  the  size 


THE    DESERTS    OF   AFRICA.  243 

varies  according  to  the  T^ixik  and  fortune  of  each  family.  By  this 
token  they  are  distinguished  from  the  vulgar  population  of  the 
Algerine  Sahara,  which  is  the  land  of  their  habitation. 

Still  more  remarkable  for  this  incongruous  union  of  the  sacer- 
dotal and  mercantile  professions  are  the  inhabitants  of  Ghadamis. 
To  a  religious  scrupulosity  that  would  tremble  at  a  drop  of  prohib- 
ited medicine  falling  on  then-  garments,  they  add  a  spirit  of  com- 
merce which  is  arrested  by  no  difficulty,  and  daunted  by  no  peril. 
They  plunge  into  the  Desert,  eager  in  pursuit  of  gain,  even  when 
it  is  known  to  be  infested  with  cut-throats;  "it  is  decreed,"  the 
moment  of  their  death  is  registered  in  the  book  of  fate,  and  no 
recklessness  on  their  part  can  antedate  the  record.  With  scrupu- 
lous exactitude,  and  with  apparent  earnestness,  too,  they  pray  five 
times  daily  while  en  route,  the  laws  of  the  Koran  allowing  them 
to  choose  their  own  time  under  these  circumstances ;  yet  they  make 
no  scruple  about  buying  and  selling  the  unfortunate  negro,  and  this 
traffic  in  human  flesh  is  the  most  lucrative  branch  of  their  com- 
merce. The  elder  men,  who  have  retired  from  the  activities  of  life, 
and  indeed  all  the  resident  inhabitants  of  Ghadamis,  seem  to  pass 
their  whole  time  in  formal  devotional  exercises.  Even  the  women 
here  are  admitted  to  have  souls,  and  are  carefully  instructed  in  the 
Koran,  besides  being  taught  to  repeat  the  usual  prayers  and  tradi- 
tionary legends. 

Unhappily  the  Turks,  having  incurred  considerable  expense  in 
establishing  their  sovereignty  at  Tripoli,  cast  their  eyes  on  this  spot 
as  an  El  Dorado  for  the  replenishment  of  their  exhausted  coffers. 
A  pretext  was  found  for  levying  a  heavy  tribute ;  and,  though  the 
holy  Maraboot  city  of  the  Desert  had  taken  no  part  in  the  turmoils 
of  the  coast,  and  though  the  pacific  character  of  its  inhabitants 
might  well  have  exempted  them  from  interference,  yet  a  Turkish 
garrison  was  placed  within  their  walls,  the  women  and  children 
were  stripped  of  their  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  private  dwellings 
were  ransacked  to  meet  the  exorbitant  demands  of  the  Ottoman 
Porte,  and  the  city,  which  had  flourished  for  ages  in  the  pursuit  of 
its  peaceful  commerce,  is  now  groaning  under  oppression,  and 
threatened  with  utter  ruin.  The  Turkish  rule  has  fallen  like  the 
lightning's  blast,  to  wither  one  of  the  fairest  palms  of  the  African 
Desert. 

The  Commerce  of  the  Desert  —  Various  Modes  of  Travelling  —  Best  Model 
of  Exploring  these  Regions. 

Besides  the  traffic  which  we  have  had  occasion  to  mention  as 
carried  on  by  some  of  the  nomade  tribes  for  the  supply  of  their 


244  THE  DESMITS    OF   AFRICA. 

immediate  wants,  there  is  a  regular  and  extensive  system  of  com- 
merce across  the  Sahara,  by  which  the  civilized  States  of  Europe 
are  brought  into  communication  with  the  Negroland  of  Interior 
Africa.  This  commercial  system  is  sufficiently  complicated  on 
account  of  the  difficulties  attending  the  transit,  and  the  various 
and  even  hostile  interests  that  are  engaged  in  it.  The  productions 
of  Europe  cannot  be  transmitted,  as  is  commonly  imagined,  into 
the  populous  regions  of  Central  Africa  by  caravans  equipped  in 
Morocco,  Algiers,  Tunis,  or  Tripoli.  The  commerce  of  Sahara  is 
by  no  means  so  simple  a  matter.  For  instance,  a  bale  of  goods 
from  Tunis,  destined  for  the  south,  is  carried  by  native  merchants 
to  Khabs,  the  most  southern  oasis  of  the  Tunisian  Sahara.  Here  it 
is  purchased  by  merchants  from  Grhadamis,  who  convey  it  to  their 
own  city,  where  it  becomes  associated  with  commodities  from  Trip- 
oli, Algiers,  and  Egypt.  It  proceeds,  generally  after  changing 
hands  at  Ghadamis,  by  the  great  annual  caravan  to  Ghat,  and  is 
there  exchanged  for  the  productions  of  Soudan.  Now,  under  the 
care  of  the  Touarik,  it  finds  its  way  to  the  country  of  the  blacks ; 
but  we  have  no  certain  details  of  their  mode  of  doing  business. 
This  is  the  eastern  route.  Towards  the  west,  the  progress  is 
somewhat  similar.  Goods  from  the  various  towns  of  Morocco  and 
Algeria  are  carried  by  native  tribes  to  Tafilet,  Metili,  &c.  They 
are  poured  into  the  market  of  El-Golea  by  the  redoubtable  Shanha, 
or  the  sacerdotal  Shereefs.  Thence,  by  the  same  tribes  and  the 
Ommadi,  they  are  conveyed  to  their  respective  markets  in  the  oases 
of  Twat ;  but  from  Twat  to  Timbuctoo  they  must  be  in  charge  of 
the  Khensafa,  or  the  all-powerful  Touarik.  There  are  some  few 
individuals  who  accompany  their  goods  through  all  their  wander- 
ings; these  are  generally  the  merchants  of  Ghadamis,  who  can 
travel  the  whole  of  the  eastern  route  under  Targhee  protection ;  or 
the  Shanbah,  who  may  succeed  in  fighting  their  way  on  the  west- 
ern. The  commerce  presents  different  characters  in  these  two 
directions.  Tunis  and  Tripoli  export  chiefly  objects  of  luxury 
from  Europe  —  as  silk,  and  other  articles  of  mercery;  pearls, 
cloves,  cinnamon,  perfumery,  paper,  cloth,  &c.  Morocco,  on  the 
other  hand,  furnishes  objects  of  more  immediate  necessity  —  such 
as  grain,  sheep,  and  wool.  Placed  between  the  two,  Algiers 
might  partake  of  both,  but  the  ravages  of  war  have  turned  aside 
the  caravans  from  her  oases.  The  staple  commodities  brought  back 
from  Soudan  are  negro  slaves,  gold-dust,  elephants'  teeth,  senna, 
ostrich-feathers,  buffalo-hides,  the  blue  cotton  made  in  the  negro 
country,  gour-nuts  for  staining  the  teeth,  &c.  The  two  last  arti- 
cles do  not  reach  the  northern  states,  but  are  disposed  of  amon^ 


THE  DESERTS  OP  AFRICA.  245 

the  inliabitants  of  the  Desert ;  and  it  is  to  he  noted  that  the  oasea 
are  places  of  consumption  and  production,  as  well  as  of  exchange. 
They  absorb  a  large  portion  of  the  merchandise,  both  of  the  north 
and  south,  on  its  way;  while  to  the  former  they  add  salt  and  na- 
trona,  to  the  latter,  dates  and  fine  woollen  cloth. 

Each  considerable  town  of  the  Desert  becomes  periodically  a 
sook  or  fair.  An  English  traveller,  who  witnessed  that  of  Ghat, 
four  or  five  years  ago,  states  the  number  of  merchants  who  arrived 
from  various  parts  to  have  been  about  500 ;  the  camels  1050 ;  the 
slaves  1000.  The  value  of  the  slaves,  elephants'  teeth,  and  senna, 
which  were  the  staple  commodities  from  the  south,  was  estimated  at 
about  £60,000,  which  would  be  doubled  on  their  arrival  at  Eu- 
ropean markets.  Besides  these,  there  were  ostrich-feathers,  hides, 
utensils  of  Soudan  manufacture  used  in  the  Sahara,  and  the  dark 
blue  calico  which  clothes  half  the  inhabitants  of  the  Desert.  From 
Europe  there  were  bracelets,  beads,  looking-glasses,  razors,  sword- 
blades,  needles,  papers,  silks  and  cottons  of  gay  colors ;  but  every- 
thing of  the  poorest  quality.  During  the  sook  the  place  was  sup- 
plied with  provisions  by  frequent  caravans  from  the  oases  of  Fezzan. 
Very  little  gold  was  to  be  seen.  What  does  come  this  way  is  chiefly 
in  the  form  of  female  ornaments,  rudely  fashioned,  but  of  the  purest 
material.  These  are  tied  up  in  filthy  pieces  of  rag,  and  deposited, 
during  their  journeyings,  in  the  bosom  or  turban  of  the  merchant. 
But  most  of  the  gold  which  is  found  in  the  interior  of  Africa  is 
carried  either  to  Morocco,  or  to  the  European  factories  on  the  west 
coast. 

Most  of  the  traffic  of  the  Desert  is  effected  by  barter,  and  very 
little  specie  is  used.  That  which  is  most  circulated  in  the  north  is 
the  money  of  Tunis,  which  is  current  as  far  as  the  oases  of  Twat 
and  Fezzan.  Further  south  there  is  some  Spanish  money  trans- 
mitted through  Morocco,  and  a  few  Turkish  coins,  which  nnturally 
find  their  way  from  Tripoli ;  but  the  latter  are  generally  disliked. 
The  reason  alleged  is,  that  God  taught  Christians  to  make  money, 
because  it  is  a  thing  accursed,  though  necessary  in  the  present 
world  ;  therefore  Mussulmans  ought  not  to  engage  in  this  work. 
In  the  future  state,  they  say  the  faithful  will  have  all  good  things 
to  enjoy  without  money ;  whereas  Christians  will  have  melted  coin 
poured  down  their  throats  as  their  torment  forever.  Among  the 
negro  tribes  a  shell  currency  is  used,  known  to  us  under  the  vul- 
gar name  of  cowries.  Every  year  the  English  pour  into  this  coun- 
try, by  Guinea,  nearly  a  hundred  tons  of  cowries  from  Bengal, 
where  they  bear  about  one  tenth  part  of  the  value  that  they  do  in 
Soudan. 


246  THE    DESERIS    OF    AFRICA. 

The  means  of  travelling  in  this  part  of  the  "world  are  utterly 
different  from  those  which  nature  and  civilization  have  bestowed  on 
Europe.  The  largest  rivers  are  unnavigable  at  a  few  miles  from 
their  mouths ;  the  highway  and  the  canal,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
railway,  are  things  unknown,  as  are  the  vehicles  of  which  they  im- 
ply the  use.  The  Arab  roads  in  the  north  are  mere  tracks  marked 
on  the  sod  by  the  naked  foot  of  man,  and  the  tread  of  horse  or 
mule.  They  are  so  narrow  that  two  persons  cannot  walk  on  them 
abreast ;  consequently,  if  travellers  or  caravans  meet,,  the  one  takes 
to  the  right  and  the  other  to  the  left,  so  that  two  tracks  are  formed, 
and  the  more  any  particular  route  is  frequented,  the  more  paths 
may  be  found,  sometimes  running  parallel,  and  sometimes  crossing 
each  other.  If  an  Arab  is  turned  out  of  his  track  for  a  time,  he 
hastens  back  to  it  as  soon  as  possible  ;  hence  the  intersections.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  a  caravan  is  very  large,  it  divides  into  two  or 
three  files,  preserving  equal  distances ;  and  hence  the  parallel  paths. 
As  the  custom  of  proceeding  in  single  file  has  produced  these  nar- 
row tracks,  so  have  these  in  turn  perpetuated  the  custom.  In  the 
Tell,  the  natives  may  be  seen  travelling  in  single  file  on  roads 
forty-eight  feet  broad,  constructed  by  their  European  conquerors, 
the  traces  of  the  national  locomotion  being  thus  impressed  on  the 
highways  opened  by  civilization. 

But  when  we  come  to  the  sands  of  the  open  Desert  even  these 
pathways  disappear ;  the  wind  soon  effaces  the  footprints  of  the 
passenger,  and  we  seek  in  vain  for  the  long  white  track  which 
guides  the  traveller  through  many  parts  of  Northern  Africa.  The 
tuft  of  a  pistachio,  a  lotus-plant,  the  white  top  of  a  sand-hill,  the 
summit  of  a  distant  mountain, — these  are  the  waymarks  which 
guide  him  across  the  solitudes.  In  some  of  the  most  monotonous 
plains  the  inhabitants  have  taken  the  precaution  to  rai^e  pyramids 
of  stones,  whose  sharp  projections  contrast  with  the  smooth  and 
rounded  features  of  the  Saharian  landscape.  These  waymarks  are 
called  kerkors,  and  are  especially  employed  to  indicate  the  position 
of  wells.  Another  kind  of  monument  also  is  frequently  met  with. 
"  Travelling  one  day,"  says  M.  Carette,  "  in  company  with  several 
Arabs,  I  was  astonished  to  see  them  stop,  one  after  another,  while 
each  lifted  a  stone,  and  still  more  surprised  when  they  offered  one 
to  me.  On  asking  the  reason,  I  was  informed  that  we  were  going 
to  pass  the  nza  of  Bel-gacem !  Though  very  little  the  wiser,  I 
took  the  stone,  and  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards  we  came  to  a  pile 
of  pebbles  about  five  feet  high.  Each  of  my  companions  cast  his 
Btone  upon  it,  exclaiming,  '  To  the  nza  of  Bel-gacem ! '  Of 
course  I  added  mine  when  my  turn  came.     This  is  the  Arab  mode 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  f  47 

of  raising  a  monument  on  the  spot  where  any  tragic  event  has  taken 
place,  and  it  sometimes  attains  the  height  of  twelve  or  fifteen  feet.'* 
Dr.  Jacquot  obtained  the  following  history  of  one  which  he  had 
occasion  to  pass  in  the  Atlas  Mountains  :  The  Ouled-Balaghr  occu- 
pied the  country  to  the  west,  while  the  Thouamas  fed  theu'  flocks  to 
the  east.  The  latter  were  a  pacific  tribe,  who  desired  nothing  of 
their  neighbors  but  to  be  let  alone  —  their  women  to  weave,  their 
children  to  tend  the  flocks,  and  the  men  to  doze  all  day,  crouchin* 
on  the  threshold  of  the  tent,  or  stretching  themselves  on  a  grassy 
mound.  But,  alas !  the  ferocious  sheik  of  the  Ouled-Balaghr  con- 
tinually interrupted  their  enjoyments,  and  harassed  them  with  war. 
He  delighted  in  finding  the  oily  coucous  ready-baked,  and  the  red 
piquant  sauce  smoking  in  the  dwellings  of  his  neighbors ;  he  pre- 
ferred the  yellow  streams  of  honey  which  filled  the  trunks  excavated 
by  the  Thouamos,  to  those  which  he  might  himself  obtain  by  patient 
industry.  Besides,  he  had  other  tastes  which  still  more  deeply 
aggrieved  the  husbands  and  fathers  of  this  inoffensive  tribe.  Mo- 
hammed espoused  their  cause ;  and,  in  clear  weather,  the  guardian 
fairies  might  be  distinctly  seen  surrounding  their  protegees  in  sea- 
sons of  extreme  danger.  One  day,  when  the  terrible  sheik  crossed 
the  boundary,  longing  after  coucous,  honey,  and  female  beauty,  he 
was  met  by  a  holy  maraboot,  bent  with  age,  and  leaning  on  a  staflf. 
Raising  his  decrepit  form  for  an  instant,  ' '  There  is  no  Grod  but 
Allah,"  said  he,  "  and  Mohammed  is  his  prophet.  Hadst  thou  the 
wings  of  our  mountain  eagles,  or  the  fleet  limbs  of  the  antelope  of 
the  plain,  thou  shouldst  proceed  no  further.  Return  to  thy  douar, 
rear  bees  for  thyself,  make  thy  women  grind  corn  and  barley,  and 
meditate  thou  in  the  Koran ;  but  let  the  Thouamas  alone,  if  thou 
wouldst  not  perish  on  this  spot  as  the  scorpion  which  thy  beast  is 
treading  under  foot."  But  the  courser  of  the  sheik  was  no  such 
pusillanimous  animal  as  Balaam's  ass  of  ancient  fame.  Urged  by 
his  master's  shabeers,*  he  dashed  past  the  holy  man,  tossed  his 
mane,  and  broke  into  a  gallop.  He  had  not  gone  many  paces  when 
he  fell ;  both  the  horse  and  the  rider  dashed  their  heads  on  a  jut- 
tinof  ano;le  of  rock.  The  little  Attila  became  food  for  the  crows 
and  jackals,  but  burial  was  given  to  the  less  guilty  horse.  Every 
Arab  that  passes  adds  a  stone  to  the  heap,  and  exclaims,  "It  is 
decreed ! " 

Level  and  sandy  tracts  are  always  chosen  for  travelling,  when 
this  is  possible,  which  is  perhaps  the  reason  that  some  travellers 
have  supposed  the  whole  Desert  to  be  a  sandy  plain.     The  most 

♦  A  kind  of  spur. 


248  TUE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA. 

dreaded  part  of  the  route  from  Twat  to  Timbuctoo  is  over  the 
tanezroufle,  a  plain  of  stiff  red  earth,  which  cannot  be  crossed  in 
less  than  ten  or  twelve  days,  and  throughout  which  not  a  drop  of 
water  is  to  be  found.  In  the  sand  there  is  at  least  always  a  soft 
dry  bed,  even  after  the  heaviest  rains,  where  the  wanderer  may 
repose  his  wearied  limbs.  Here,  too,  he  is  more  likely  to  find 
springs  of  water  than  in  the  clayey  or  stony  tracts.  The  wells  in  the 
neighborhood  of  oases  are  covered  with  skins,  to  preserve  them  from 
the  intrusion  of  the  sand,  and  furnished  with  a  bucket  of  plaited 
halfa,  and  a  cord  to  reach  the  water.  If  this  simple  apparatus  gets 
out  of  order,  it  must  be  the  result  of  long  use  or  unforeseen  acci- 
dent ;  for  it  is  guaranteed  against  wanton  injury,  by  the  respect 
which  all  native  travellers  entertain  for  these  little  monuments  of 
public  utility.  Any  misadventure  that  occurs  to  them  is  imme- 
diately reported  to  the  chief  of  the  oases,  who  loses  no  time  in 
repairing  it. 

The  European  adventurer  most  commonly  joins  the  gafala,  or 
merchant  caravan,  as  it  is  not  only  the  most  expeditious,  but  the 
most  secure  and  economical,  mode  of  performing  a  journey,  the 
expense  of  an  escort  being  saved.  In  all  the  northern  oases  of 
any  importance,  there  are  fourdouks  or  caravanserais  corresponding 
with  the  principal  points  of  commercial  intercourse ;  and  these 
serve  not  only  as  resting-places  and  hotels,  but  as  rendezvous  and 
starting-points  for  the  caravans  which  frequent  them.  If  the 
escorting  towns  are  pretty  considerable,  the  departures  are  period- 
ical ;  but  in  all  cases  the  day  and  hour  of  starting  is  intimated 
beforehand  by  the  chief  driver,  and,  in  order  to  ascertain  it,  one 
has  only  to  apply  at  the  proper  fourdouk,  where  all  particulars  may 
be  obtained. 

The  muleteers  and  camel-drivers  form  the  nucleus  of  the  cara- 
van, and  regulate  its  movements.  The  length  of  a  day's  journey  is 
variable,  depending  on  the  strength  of  the  company,  in  connection 
with  the  nature  of  the  route  and  the  degree  of  security  anticipated. 
The  usual  distance  is  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  miles,  but  it  may 
extend  to  forty  in  regions  destitute  of  water  or  infested  by  robbers. 
Travellers  who  join  a  caravan  are  not  obliged  to  submit  to  any  dis- 
cipline. There  is  no  community  except  that  of  dangers  to  be 
escaped,  and  an  end  to  be  attained.  If  they  sustain  an  attack, 
each  one  consults  his  own  courage,  and  does  independently  what  in 
him  lies  to  repel  or  escape  the  enemy.  It  rarely  happens  that  any 
regular  disposition  of  force  is  made  either  for  the  attack  or  the 
defence ;  and  occurrences  of  this  nature  always  produce  considera- 
ble disorder.     The  gafalas  are  almost  entu*ely  composed  of  men 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA.  249 

whose  principal  occupation  is  commerce,  but  women  are  not  ex- 
cluded ;  and  it  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  widows,  having  no 
other  means  of  support,  carrying  on  the  traffic  of  their  deceased 
husbands. 

Another  species  of  caravan  is  the  neja,  or  migration  of  a  tribe ; 
and  this  presents  a  much  more  lively  scene  than  a  gafala.  The 
latter  is  a  concourse  of  men  who  have  little  acquaintance  with  each 
other ;  its  march  is  grave,  and  often  silent  and  monotonous.  The 
neja,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  tribe  with  its  women,  its  dogs,  its  tents, 
and  all  the  apparatus  of  nomade  life.  It  is  not  composed  of  iso- 
lated indi\'iduals,  but  of  families ;  or  rather  it  is  one  great  family 
on  the  tramp.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing  more  lively  and  pleas- 
ant than  to  join  a  neja.  "  The  barking  of  the  dogs,  the  bleating 
of  the  sheep,  the  shouting  of  the  men  in  charge  of  them,  the  crow- 
ing of  the  fowls,  and  the  squalling  of  the  children  ;  all  this  variety 
of  noises,"  says  M.  Carette,  "forms  a  rural  harmony  which  is 
quite  charming  in  the  otherwise  lonely  and  silent  wastes,  and  the 
traveller  finds  a  novel  source  of  amusement  in  witnessing  the  pri- 
vate labors  of  domestic  economy,  simple  enough,  but  wearing  a 
strange  character,  when  it  is  remeiiibered  that  they  are  all  conducted 
on  the  back  of  the  camel." 

Suddenly  this  noisy  march  becomes  silent  and  pensive  —  the 
cavaliers  of  the  advanced  guard  perceive  in  the  horizon  the  ap- 
proach of  another  tribe.  They  give  notice  of  it  to  the  sheik,  and 
immediately  the  ranks  close  in.  The  gafala  carries  no  standard, 
for  it  fears  no  enemy  save  the  freebooter ;  but  each  neja  is  in  alli- 
ance with  one  or  other  of  the  great  parties  that  divide  the  Desert, 
and  regard  as  enemies  all  the  tribes  that  favor  the  opposite  cause. 
As  the  two  companies  near  each  other,  conjectures  are  forming  as 
to  whether  this  is  to  be  a  greeting  of  friends  or  a  collision  of 
foes.  When  they  come  within  reach  of  the  voice,  the  demand  is 
made,  "Who  are  you?"  If  they  prove  to  be  allies,  they 
continue  their  journey  apart,  on  exchanging  a  salam ;  but  if  the 
name  uttered  is  that  of  a  hostile  tribe,  they  reply  by  blows,  and  a 
conflict  ensues.  The  battle  never  continues  beyond  sunset,  which 
is  the  signal  for  the  suspension  of  hostilities.  If  one  of  the  par- 
ties is  confessedly  worsted,  it  avails  itself  of  the  night  to  disappear ; 
but  if  the  issue  is  doubtful,  the  belligerents  encamp  on  the  field  of 
battle,  and  renew  the  conflict  in  the  morning.  The  Arabs  manifest 
much  more  animosity  in  these  collisions  than  in  any  skirmishes  they 
have  with  their  European  invaders,  as  none  are  more  exasperated 
than  brothers,  if  they  happen  to  be  enemies.  In  war  against  the  infi- 
dels, they  make  prisoners ;  but  no  such  thing  is  known  in  the  mu« 


250  THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA. 

tual  warfare  of  tribes.  In  the  latter  case,  if  an  Arab  becomes  maa* 
ter  of  a  living  foe,  he  slays  him  without  mercy,  and  hastens  to  lay 
the  gory  head  at  the  feet  of  his  wives,  who  welcome  it  with  insulta 
and  imprecations. 

The  only  exception  to  these  barbarous  usages  is  in  favor  of  three 
classes  of  people :  maraboots  are  spared  out  of  respect  for  their 
sacred  character ;  Jews  and  blacksmiths  from  mere  contempt.  We 
have  not  been  able  to  learn  the  origin  of  this  feeling  towards  the 
trade  of  a  blacksmith;  but  certain  it  is,  that  if  a  man  be  sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  and  despairing  of  escape,  he  has  only  to 
wrap  his  head  in  the  hood  of  his  burnoose,  and  work  with  his  arms, 
as  if  beating  iron.  They  will  not  stain  their  hands  with  the  blood 
of  so  abject  a  wretch. 

It  rarely  happens  that  a  traveller,  joining  a  neja,  has  occasion  to 
carry  his  own  tent  and  provisions.  If  he  has  any  acquaintance  in 
the  tribe,  he  receives  hospitality  as  a  guest,  and  shares  the  tent  and 
koukous  *  of  his  host.  This  position  secures  to  him  all  the  respect 
and  protection  to  which  the  family  entertaining  him  are  entitled. 
Among  the  strangers  who  join  either  a  gafala  or  neja,  there  are  gen- 
erally found  some  destitute  creatures  who,  on  the  day  of  departure, 
know  not  how  the  bread  of  to-morrow  is  to  be  obtained ;  but  they 
are  under  no  disquietude  —  they  trust  in  Providence,  and  not  in 
vain.  Scarcely  has  the  cavalcade  started,  but  they  find  opportu- 
nities of  making  themselves  useful,  either  in  loading  or  guiding 
the  camels,  for  which  little  services  they  receive  their  daily  food ; 
and  it  is  all  they  desire.  Thus  they  accomplish  a  long  journey 
without  either  expense  on  the  one  hand  or  privation  on  the  other. 
It  is  in  this  way  that  numbers  of  poor  husbandmen  and  laborers, 
not  finding  their  toil  sufficiently  remunerated  in  the  oases,  make 
their  way  to  the  coast,  where  they  form  the  most  intelligent,  the 
most  industrious,  and  the  best  conducted  portion  of  the  community. 

One  cannot  compare  the  habits  and  the  wants  of  one  of  these 
camel-drivers  of  the  Desert  with  those  of  a  European  wagoner, 
without  being  struck  with  the  contrast.  The  latter  requires,  as 
every  night  closes  in,  a  roof  to  shelter  him,  should  it  be  only  that 
of  a  hovel,  and  a  bed,  though  but  of  straw ;  he  needs  nourishing 
food  to  support  his  strength,  and  this  necessity  is  rendered  more 
imperious  by  the  use  of  alcoholic  liquors.  But  the  Arab  camel- 
driver  asks  no  bed  but  the  sand  —  no  roof  but  the  sky;  a  fountain 
of  pure  water  is  his  most  luxurious  tavern  ;  his  sustenance  is  moist- 

*  Cakes  made  of  meal  mixed  with  various  ingredients,  according  to  the 
eiroumstances  of  the  eater. 


THE  DESERTS  OF  AFRICA,  251 

ened  meal ;  and  for  these  he  offers  thanks  to  Heaven.  Five  times 
a  day  he  prostrates  himself  on  the  ground,  laying  his  forehead  on 
the  sharp  stones  of  the  Desert,  if  such  be  the  paving  of  his  route, 
and  pours  out  his  prayers  to  his  heavenly  Gruide,  Protector,  and 
Provider.  What  an  example  for  the  well-fed  bishops  of  Christen- 
dom ! 

Neither  merchant-caravans,  nor  those  of  migrating  tribes,  travel 
at  all  times  or  in  all  directions,  so  that  isolated  journeying  is  fre- 
quently necessary.  It  is  generally  unsafe  for  a  stranger  to  attempt 
this  without  the  protection  of  either  a  professional  or  amateur  guide, 
belonging  to  a  tribe  whose  territory  is  to  be  crossed.  He  ia 
acquainted  with  the  safe  hiding-places  and  the  good  springs.  He 
knows  when  it  is  necessary  to  remain  concealed,  and  when  he  may 
proceed  by  daylight ;  and  he  has  friends  along  the  route  from  whom 
he  obtains  for  his  companion  the  same  hospitality  that  is  extended 
to  himself. 

The  provision  for  a  journey  consists  of  rouina,  dates,  and  butter, 
if  one  is  desirous  of  luxury;  otherwise,  the  only  article  of  food  is 
rouina.  This  is  simply  grain  (generally  barley)  roasted,  ground, 
and  pressed  into  a  mezoued,  which  is  a  sheep's  skin  tanned  and 
dyed  red.  Another  skin  called  a  shenna  is  required  for  water ;  it 
preserves  its  hair  outside,  and  receives  a  coat  of  tar  within.  Water 
may  be  carried  in  it  for  ten  days  without  becoming  the  least  spoiled. 
With  the  mezoued  slung  like  a  wallet  on  one  shoulder,  and  the 
shenna  on  the  other,  the  Arab  often  travels  immense  plains  alone 
and  on  foot,  without  meeting  human  habitation  for  days  together, 
and  this  at  the  rate  sometimes  of  forty  miles  a  day ;  for  he  walks 
from  the  rising  till  the  setting  of  the  sun.  When  he  wishes  for  a 
repast,  the  table  is  soon  spread.  He  sits  down  beside  a  spring  of 
water,  if  the  place  affords  one,  and  lays  on  the  gi'ound  a  flap  of  his 
burnoose,  which  serves  both  as  dish  and  table-cloth.  He  throws 
into  it  a  handful  of  rouina,  which  he  moistens  with  water,  makes 
into  a  paste,  and  eats  without  further  culinary  process.  He  then 
puts  his  hands  together  to  form  a  cup,  drinks,  and  pursues  his  way. 
A  mezoued  full  of  rouina  will  support  him  twenty-four  days. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  our  knowledge  of  the  deserts,  as  well 
as  of  the  interior  of  Africa,  is  still  very  imperfect;  and,  while  we 
render  due  homage  to  the  courage  of  those  martyrs  to  science  who 
have  from  time  to  time  ventured  into  the  trackless  wastes,  and  have 
in  few  instances  lived  to  return,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  field 
is  too  wide  and  too  ungenial  to  be  explored  by  any  such  individual 
and  partial  researches  as  have  yet  taken  place.  It  is  to  be  appre- 
hended that  in  some,  perhaps  in  many,  cases,  general  inferences 


252  THE  DESERTS  OF  AIEICA. 

have  been  drawn  hastily  and  incorrectly  from  particular  facts ;  and 
the  sufferings  which  Europeans  have  undergone  in  their  venturous 
excursions,  may  have  led  them  to  view  things  through  a  distorted 
medium,  and  to  represent  them  in  such  a  manner  as  rather  to  mag- 
nify than  diminish  the  distance  which  divides  us  from  them.  It  is 
not  enough  to  be  courageous.  AVe  should  endeavor  to  turn  our 
courage  to  good  account  by  directing  it  in  wisdom ;  and,  before 
throwing  ourselves  into  a  region  where  so  many  lives  have  been 
sacrificed,  it  would  be  well  to  know  so  much  about  it  as  to  make 
our  progress  safe,  and  our  observations  intelligent  and  useful.  It 
has  been  suggested  by  some  who  have  become  personally  and  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  Northern  Sahara,  or  Land  of  Dates, 
that  among  the  natives  themselves  might  be  found  useful  explorers 
to  prepare  the  way  for  European  adventure.  In  Tunis,  Tripoli, 
and  Alexandria,  the  points  in  which  terminate  three  of  the  great 
commercial  arteries  of  Interior  Africa,  there  are  always  to  be  found 
Arabs  who  have  traversed  in  every  direction  the  whole  country 
between  Egypt  and  Guinea.  We  might  send  such  as  these  into 
the  heart  of  Africa,  to  collect  all  the  particulars  which  it  is  desira- 
ble to  obtain.  They  are  naturally  enterprising  travellers  and  acute 
observers  of  natural  phenomena ;  and  their  native  instincts,  prop- 
erly directed,  might  yield  us  an  immense  fund  of  information  at  a 
very  trifling  cost.  They  might  be  commissioned  to  bring  specimens 
of  all  the  natural  productions,  first  of  the  Northern  Sahara,  then 
of  the  Central,  and,  lastly,  of  Interior  Africa ;  of  the  plants,  the 
grain,  the  shells,  the  stones,  the  fruit  of  different  kinds,  and  stuffs 
of  various  fabrics.  They  might  be  instructed  to  count  the  houses 
of  a  town,  the  tents  of  a  tribe,  the  camels  of  a  caravan ;  and  thus 
should  we  have  accurate  data  on  the  strength  of  the  population  and 
the  progress  of  commerce.  They  might  be  directed  to  count  the 
paces  from  one  oasis  to  another,  to  follow  the  course  of  a  stream,  to 
measure  a  basin ;  and  thus  we  should  have  geogi-aphical  details. 

"I  was  curious,"  says  M.  Carette,  '^to  ascertain  by  experiment 
how  far  these  rovers  of  the  Desert  might  be  transformed  into  deputy 
travellers,  and  the  result  even  surpassed  my  expectations.  I  gave 
a  scientific  commission,  for  a  distant  part  of  the  Date  Country,  to 
an  intelligent  but  illiterate  Arab  belonging  to  one  of  those  Saharian 
tribes  which  make  the  most  extensive  circuit  in  their  annual  migra- 
tions. His  instructions  were  confined  to  objects  of  natural  history, 
geography,  commerce,  and  statistics.  But  the  child  of  the  Desert 
spontaneously  became  an  archaeologist.  Having  met  with  a  Roman 
inscription,  he  copied  it  as  faithfully  as  he  could,  supposing,  acc*^-«^- 


THE   DESERTS   OF   AFRICA.  253 

ing  to  the  traditions  of  his  country,  that  it  contained  some  impor- 
tant revelation  which  I  should  be  able  to  expound." 

If  it  be  asked  whether  the  veracity  of  such  agents  could  be 
depended  upon,  it  is  answered  that  they  would  at  least  be  as 
worthy  of  credence  as  the  generality  of  European  travellers  ;  that 
is,  quite  as  little  prone  to  perversion  or  exaggeration,  and  somewhat 
less  liable  to  mistake  or  deception ;  but  we  could  easily  verify  their 
testimony  by  despatching  two  successively  on  a  similar  mission. 
If  Europeans  who  understood  the  language  of  the  Arabs,  and  knew 
how  to  humor  their  peculiarities,  would  take  up  their  position  about 
the  skirts  of  the  desert,  and  employ  themselves  in  directing  native 
explorers,  and  then  collecting  and  comparing  their  reports,  instead 
of  plunging  themselves  into  the  pathless  wastes,  where  their 
religion  is  abhorred,  their  motives  suspected,  and  their  lives  consid- 
ered fair  game,  we  might  soon  have  such  a  programme  as  would 
open  a  well  defined  field  for  European  enterprise,  whether  commer- 
cial, scientific,  or  religious. 


My  first  sea-voyage  was  made  in  the  Weatherly,  Captain  Courtly ; 
Bhe  was  a  remarkably  fine  old  teak  sliip,  of  about  1500  tons  bur- 
then, built  in  Bombay  for  the  East  India  Company,  and  so  conr 
Btructed  as  to  be  equally  well  adapted  for  trading  or  for  war. 

I  joined  the  vessel  as  a  midshipman  (so  called),  on  the  30th  of 
November,  184-,  while  she  was  lying  in  the  river  ofi"  Gravesend,  in 
the  berth  usually  allotted  to  outward-bound  Indiamen,  just  abreast 
of  Tilbury  Fort.  I  recollect  that  it  was  one  of  those  dull,  drizzling 
days  so  prevalent  during  an  English  November,  and  so  peculiarly 
disagreeable  in  the  neighborhood  of  London.  I  found  everything 
on  iDoard  in  what  I,  in  my  ignorance,  looked  upon  as  irremediable 
confusion  :  the  salt  provisions  and  the  cuddy-stores  were  being 
hoisted  on  board  from  a  lighter  alongside,  and  the  deck  was  encum- 
berod  with  casks  and  cases,  which  were  deposited  there  previously 

(254) 


LIFE  IN  AN   INDIAMAN.  255 

to  being  lowered  into  the  hold,  and  finally  stowed  away.  A  day  or 
two  prior  to  the  date  of  my  joining,  a  quantity  of  bar-iron,  shot, 
and  shell,  had  been  received  on  board,  the  rust  from  which  pervaded 
everything  in  a  most  extraordinary  manner :  this,  combined  with 
the  mild  brought  from  shore  by  boatmen  and  visitors,  and  the  cease- 
less drizzling  rain,  rendered  the  decks  filthy  beyond  description. 
Everybody  was  bustling  to  and  fro,  apparently  with  some  definite 
object  in  view,  whilst  I,  lost  and  bewildered,  although  most  anxious 
to  be  useful  in  some  way,  and  to  learn  what  was  the  nature  of  the 
duties  which  I  should  be  called  upon  to  perform  in  my  new  station, 
was  pushed  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  as  if  I  was  merely  an 
incumbrance ;  for,  being  myself  unemployed,  I  contrived  to  place 
myself  so  as  to  incommode  everybody  else.  At  length,  one  of  the 
officers  noticing,  I  presume,  my  lackadaisical  appearance,  sent  me, 
more  by  way  of  joke  than  from  any  absolute  necessity,  with  a 
message  to  an  officer  who  was  employed  in  another  part  of  the  ship, 
and  it  was  then  that  my  difficulties  may  be  said  to  have  commenced ; 
for  although,  while  standing  upon  the  upper  deck,  I  could  distin- 
guish the  stem  from  the  stern  of  the  ship,  I  candidly  confess  that  I 
was  sorely  puzzled  when  ordered  to  deliver  a  message  in  the  After 
Orlop.  However,  burning  with  a  desire  to  show  myself  smait,  I 
dived  down  to  the  gun  deck,  and  roamed  from  the  stern  cabins  to 
the  manger  without  discovering  any  locality  bearing  that  name :  all 
my  inquiries  as  to  its  whereabouts  were  answered  by  a  broad  grin, 
a  horse-laugh,  or  a  careless  oath ;  and  when  I  meekly  asked  where 
the  officer  of  whom  I  was  in  search  was  most  likely  to  be  found,  I 
was  informed,  in  a  perfectly  serious  tone,  that  in  all  probability  he 
was  skulking  in  the  cook's  coppers,  covered  over  with  a  ladle,  or  in 
the  larboard  binnacle,  hidden  by  a  spoon,  or,  perhaps,  which  was 
most  likely,  stowed  away  in  the  till  of  the  captain's  shaving-box. 
At  length,  by  dint  of  untiring  perseverance,  I  found  the  person 
sought,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  being  well  laughed  at,  the 
message  having  been  delivered  by  another  mid'  just  an  hour  before. 
My  total  ignorance  of  the  manners  and  customs  on  board  ship 
(for  I  was  fresh  from  an  inland  country  town),  and  of  the  usual 
daily  routine,  exposed  me  to  an  infinite  number  of  practical  jokes ; 
among  others,  I  was  sometimes  despatched  in  a  great  hurry  to  the 
carpenter,  to  ask  him  for  the  loan  of  his  circular  square,  or  some 
other  unheard-of  and  impossible  instrument ;  the  old  carpenter,  who 
was  up  to  the  joke,  always  looked  as  grave  as  a  judge,  and  sent  back 
his  compliments,  and  he  was  sorry  that  the  tool  had  been  unfortu- 
nately mislaid.  When  I  was  sent  on  similar  "  goose's  "  errands  to 
the  boatswain,  I  generally  received  a  thorough  quizzing,  and  the 


256  LIFE  IN   AN   INDIAMAN. 

advice  to  be  a  little  more  wide-awake  in  future.  It  was  some  con- 
solation to  me  to  observe  that  I  was  not  the  only  one  who  was  thus 
made  sport  of,  for  all  the  first  voyagers,  or  greenhorns,  were  more 
or  less  imposed  upon  in  proportion  to  their  good-nature  and  credulity : 
and  in  the  end  I  am  sure  it  proved  to  our  advantage,  as  it  made 
us  keep  a  "  weather-eye  "  open  in  self-defence,  and  might  therefore 
be  looked  upon  as  the  rudiments  of  our  nautical  education. 

At  one  o'clock  all  hands  went  to  dinner,  and  I  groped  my  way 
to  the  mess-room,  which  had  been  previously  pointed  out  to  me. 
Here  I  found  the  fifth  mate  and  two  midshipmen  (old  stagers) 
eagerly  swallowing  a  mixture  of  greasy  water  and  cabbage  leaves, 
called  vegetable  soup,  of  which  they  invited  me  to  partake,  and 
helped  me  very  liberally ;  but,  seeing  that  I  did  not  make  much 
progress  with  it,  they  recommended  me  to  try  some  of  their  delicious 
*'  sea-cake,"  at  the  same  time  handing  me  a  seaman's  biscuit  of  the 
roughest  description,  very  difierent  from  those  really  excellent 
octagons  which  are  supplied  to  the  royal  navy.  After  soup,  came 
a  large  dish  of  beef-steaks  and  onions  —  a  most  savory  mess,  and. 
highly  inviting  in  appearance  ;  but,  alas !  it  was  all  outward  show, 
for  the  beef  defied  mastication, —  and  from  that  day  to  this  I  have 
nourished  a  strong  aversion  to  beef-steaks.  I  found  them  to  be  the 
standing  dish  in  harbor,  for  even  in  Bombay  buffalo  steaks,  consist- 
ing of  skin  and  gristle,  appeared  regularly  every  morning  on  our 
breakfast-table.  Small-beer,  called  by  my  messmates  "  swipes," 
was  to  be  had  merely  for  the  fetching,  there  being  a  large  cask  of  it 
on  deck  for  the  indiscriminate  use  of  all  hands ;  and  I  can  confi- 
dently assert  that  the  midshipmen's  mess  had  the  lion's  share, 
consuming,  probably,  as  much  as  all  the  rest  of  the  ship's  company 
put  together ;  fortunately,  as  the  wine  merchants  say  of  their  claret, 
there  was  not  "  a  headache  in  a  hogshead  of  it,"  so  that  there  was 
no  fear  of  inebriation.  The  meat  having  been  removed,  long  clay 
pipes  were  filled  and  lighted,  and  a  few  whifis  taken  by  way  of  a 
digestive ;  soon  after  which  the  boatswain's  call  summoned  all  to 
their  respective  stations. 

After  night-fall  I  was  sent  down  into  the  hold,  where  a  gang  of 
men  were  employed,  under  the  third  mate,  in  stowing  away  cases, 
&c. ;  my  duty  was  to  hold  a  candle,  and  show  a  light  when  required. 
This  employment  always  devolves  upon  the  midshipmen,  so  that 
those  in  the  East  India  Company's  service  were  known  by  the  nick- 
name of  "  Company's  Candlesticks."  By  our  constant  attendance 
in  the  hold  whilst  the  cargo  was  being  stowed,  we  had  an  opportunity 
afibrded  us  of  gaining  much  practical  information  as  to  the  best  and 
eafegt  mode  of  arranging  cargo  of  various  descriptions      a  science 


LIFE  IN   AN   INDIAMAN.  257 

of  no  mean  importance.  When  the  stowing  was  completed,  the 
men  scrambled  hand-over-head  up  a  greasy  rope  to  the  deck  above, 
a  distance  of  about  twenty  feet,  —  and  I  was  expected  to  do  the 
same  ;  but  gymnastics  never  having  formed  part  of  my  education,  I 
made  many  violent  and  unsuccessful  struggles,  amid  the  laughter  of 
the  lookers-on,  before  I  could  gain  the  orlop  deck.  After  a  little 
practice,  however,  I  overcame  this  difficulty ;  and  I  think  I  should 
now  stand  a  very  fair  chance  of  winning  the  leg  of  mutton  sur- 
mounting a  greased  pole  at  a  country  merry-making. 

Whilst  I  had  been  buried  in  the  regions  below,  the  live-stock  had 
arrived,  consisting  of  some  hundreds  of  fowls,  ducks,  geese,  and 
turkeys,  besides  a  large  number  of  sheep,  pigs,  a  cow  and  a  calf  I 
never  heard  such  a  Babel  of  sounds  as  was  produced  by  these  unfor- 
tunate creatures :  by  their  cries,  one  would  have  thought  that  they 
had  a  presentiment  of  the  rough  weather  they  were  doomed  to  encoun- 
ter, and  their  ultimate  ignominious  death.  The  pigs  were  especially 
uneasy  —  no  doubt,  with  that  sagacity  for  which  they  are  famed, 
they  saw  the  wind  coming.  The  geese  had  an  annoying  habit  of 
raising  a  simultaneous  cackle  every  half  hour  :  I  have  since  noticed 
that  these  birds  are  capital  judges  of  time,  for,  as  regularly  as  the 
half-hour  expires,  they  raise  their  voices  in  a  loud  chorus,  even 
before  the  striking  of  the  bell.  This,  methinks,  is  a  curious  fact 
for  the  naturalists  ;  I  am  ready  to  vouch  for  its  correctness ; 
indeed,  it  is  not  difficult  to  believe,  when  we  consider  that  the 
M'atchfulness  of  the  geese  saved  the  Roman  capital.  The  odor  aris- 
ing from  such  a  congregation  of  animals  was  worse  than  I  had  ever 
met  with  in  the  worst-appointed  farm-yards ;  but  on  the  gun-deck, 
where  the  midshipmen's  hammocks  were  slung,  the  noise  and  smell, 
though  of  a  different  character,  were  infinitely  more  disgusting. 
The  air  was  loaded  with  the  perfume  of  bilge-water,  fresh  paint,  gin, 
and  beer,  mingled  with  the  fumes  of  tobacco,  which  issued  from  the 
forecastle,  where  our  tars  lived.  As  the  ship  was  to  sail  shortly, 
they  were  allowed  the  privilege  of  having  their  wives,  sweethearts, 
and  female  relatives,  on  board :  both  men  and  women  were,  with 
few  exceptions,  half  intoxicated ;  and  laughing,  singing,  swearing, 
and  even  fighting,  accompanied  with  language  of  the  most  revolting 
character,  were  kept  up  throughout  the  greater  part  of  the  night ; 
and  all  this  within  a  yard  of  the  midshipmen's  hammocks.  Under 
these  auspices  I  commenced  slinging  my  hammock,  and  having  suo- 
ceeded  in  so  doing,  I  vaulted  in  very  dexterously,  considering  that 
it  was  my  first  attempt  of  the  kind  ;  but  no  sooner  did  I  jump  in 
on  one  side  than  I  fell  out  at  the  other,  and  came  with  a  violent 
concussion  on  the  muddy  deck,  whilst  the  bed  and  bedding  were 
17 


258  LIFE   IN   AN   INDIAMAN. 

strewed  over  and  around  me.  After  many  attempts,  with  the  like 
ill  success,  I  at  length  found  out  the  way  of  getting  in  properly ; 
but  with  so  much  smoke  and  noise,  and  sometimes  jostled  by  drunken 
females,  sleep  was  altogether  out  of  the  question.  However,  I 
thought  I  should  at  least  be  allowed  to  rest  my  limbs  for  a  few 
hours  ;  but  I  had  not  been  in  my  hammock  half  an  hour,  before  I 
was  informed  by  a  brother  mid'  that  it  was  my  watch  on  deck,  and 
that  he  would  advise  me  to  relieve  him  quickly,  as  it  was  raining 
hard ;  so  I  turned  out,  excited  and  feverish,  went  on  deck,  and  took 
my  share  of  drenching.  The  oldsters  were  in  the  habit  of  shifting 
nearly  all  their  night-watches  upon  the  first  voyagers,  sometimes  by 
bullying,  and  sometimes  by  trickery  —  of  course  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  officers ;  so  that  the  juniors  frequently  spent  half  the 
night  shivering  on  deck,  not  daring  to  leave  their  post  until  relieved. 
Such  is  a  sketch  of  my  first  day  and  night  on  board,  and  such,  I 
believe,  is  the  usual  state  of  an  outward-bound  Indiaman  oflf 
Gravesend. 

The  mess-room  was  of  very  moderate  dimensions ;  so  much  so, 
that  when  all  our  chests  were  stowed  therein,  with  the  mess-table  in 
the  middle,  it  was  only  by  close  packing  that  we  could  all  find  sitting 
room.  Of  the  disgusting  nature  of  the  conversation  which  was 
daily  carried  on  in  this  little  Pandemonium,  I  will  not  say  more 
than  that  it  was  far  less  refined  than  any  that  I  ever  heard  among  the 
•eamen  in  the  forecastle ;  for  in  our  choice  assembly,  if  one  of  the 
young  gentlemen,  rather  more  sensible  or  better  educated  than  the 
rest,  happened  to  make  use  of  a  word  which  was  not  often  employed, 
or  tried  to  give  the  conversation  a  decorous  or  instructive  turn,  he 
■was  cried  down  as  a  "  walking  dictionary,"  or  somebody  would  ex- 
claim, "  Ah,  there's  Johnson  again  !  "  If  a  word  was  not  under- 
stood, the  speaker  was  interrupted  with  the  question  of  "  What 
ship's  that?  "  So  that  all  rational  intercourse  was  immediately  put 
an  end  to.  He  who  volunteered  an  indecent  or  blasphemous  story 
always  found  plenty  to  listen  and  applaud.  In  other  respects  our 
mess-berth  was  anything  but  a  paradise.  There  was,  for  instance, 
no  privacy ;  we  all  washed  and  dressed  in  the  same  berth,  placing 
our  basins  upon  our  chests,  —  or,  if  there  were  not  room  for  us  all, 
some  would  go  out  on  the  gun-deck,  and  there  perform  the  operations 
of  the  toilet  —  the  admired  of  all  beholders.  The  looking-glasses, 
razors,  and  other  little  knick-knacks  with  which  the  first  voyagers 
were  invariably  furnished  by  their  accommodating  outfitters,  were 
always  laid  claim  to  as  a  matter  of  right  by  the  oldsters,  who  never 
brought  anything  of  the  kind  to  sea  themselves,  shrewdly  surmising 
that  in  every  midshipmen's  mess  it  was  probable  there  would  be  one 


LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  259 

or  more  greenliorns  to  prey  upon.  The  motto  with  these  unscrupu- 
lous gentry  was  this  :  "  What's  yours  is  mine,  and  what's  mine  is 
my  own,"  —  a  principle  they  always  kept  in  mind  and  acted  up  to, 
in  spite  of  all  remonstrances.  Among  other  things  which  my  out- 
fitter had  put  in  my  chest,  were  a  japanned  candlestick  and  its 
appurtenances,  three  pounds  of  wax  candles,  and  two  or  three  cod- 
lines  and  hooks.  Finding  the  candlestick  take  up  too  much  room 
in  my  chest,  I.  placed  it  on  a  shelf  in  the  mess-room.  It  was  soon 
discovered,  seized,  tossed  from  hand  to  hand  amid  many  jokes,  and 
at  length,  battered  and  bruised,  was  quietly  passed  overboard  as  a 
useless  piece  of  furniture.  I  must  confess  that  I  could  never  assign 
any  other  reason  for  its  being  included  among  my  necessaries  of 
outfit  than  that  it  might  appear  in  the  bill.  The  wax  candles  were 
begged,  borrowed,  or  stolen  so  fast,  that  they  all  vanished  in  abbui> 
a  week  ;  and  the  cod-lines,  being  of  a  handy  size  for  making  laui 
yards  for  knives  and  clothes-bags,  were  wheedled  from  me  by  some, 
and  bullied  out  of  me  by  others.  My  looking-glass  was  smashed 
before  the  expiration  of  a  month,  and  my  pewter  basin  squeezed 
into  the  shape  of  a  cocked-hat.  The  general  habits  of  the  "  young 
gentlemen,"  to  say  the  least  of  them,  were  disgusting.  Smoking 
was  permitted  at  meal-times,  with  its  usual  accompaniments.  It 
was  usual  after  tea  (or  supper,  in  nautical  language)  to  pelt  each 
other  with  the  remaining  grounds,  the  principal  share  of  which 
always  fell  to  the  weakest. 

When  the  oldsters  were  inclined  for  a  little  recreation,  they  fast- 
ened a  rope's-end  to  the  great  toe  of  one  of  the  unfortunate  first 
voyagers,  and  by  means  of  a  bolt  in  the  deck,  triced  his  heels  up, 
so  that  his  head  should  trail  on  the  deck.  This  was  done  with  the 
intention  of  bringing  him  under  proper  discipline,  as  they  termed  it. 
By  the  by,  this  mode  of  coercion  was  never  practised  upon  me, 
although  I  often  saw  it  put  in  force  upon  poor  Hodges,  an  incorri- 
gible youngster,  who,  certainly  betimes,  allowed  his  tongue  too  great 
a  license.  The  culprit  was  always  kept  in  this  unpleasant  position 
until  he  asked  pardon  for  the  ofience  which  had  been  alleged  against 
him.  The  caterer  of  the  mess  was  a  very  dexterous  hand  at  throw- 
ing the  carving-fork,  by  which  means  he  preserved  order  and  deco- 
rum when  necessary.  The  punctures  from  this  instrument  were 
more  sharp  than  agreeable,  and  few  who  had  once  been  wounded  were 
desirous  of  a  second  infliction,  as  I  can  testify  from  personal  expe- 
rience. It  will  be  seen,  from  what  I  have  here  written,  that  our  moda 
of  proceeding  was  much  the  same  as  is  to  be  met  with  in  large 
schools,  or  in  any  place  where  boys  are  congregated.  It  is  the 
nature  of  man,  I  fear,  for  the  strong  to  take  a  delight  in  tyrannizing 


260  LIFE   IN   AN   INDIAMAN. 

over  the  weak ;  yet  tliese  little  roughs  and  rubs  undoubtedly  wrougli* 
considerable  improvement  in  my  character,  and  instead  of  hardening 
me,  rendered  me  better  able  to  appreciate  and  sympathize  with  the 
sufferings  of  others. 

Our  voyage  commenced  with  squally  weather,  and  my  sufferinors 
were  for  the  first  fortnight  iutense.  During  this  time  there  were 
incessant  rain,  squalls,  and  that  terrible  rolling  motion  which  is 
caused  by  a  confused  sea.  For  three  days  and  nights  I  stowed  my- 
self ought  of  sight,  in  a  dark  corner  near  the  pumps  on  the  gun- 
deck,  where  I  remained  unnoticed,  in  a  pool  of  rusty  water,  more 
dead  than  alive,  receiving  no  nourishment,  and  wishing  for  death  to 
come  and  release  me.  Being  discovered,  I  was- peremptorily  ordered 
on  deck,  and  told  that  nothing  but  active  motion  was  required  to 
cure  me,  although  my  messmates  affirmed  that  nothing  in  the  world 
would  hasten  my  recovery  so  much  as  a  lump  of  fit  pork.  From 
that  time  I  always  went  on  deck  when  the  hands  were  turned  oat, 
was  drenched  with  rain,  pushed  rudely  about,  and  was  ever  and 
anon  entangled  in  coils  of  wet  ropes,  or  breaking  my  shins  over  some 
other  impediment,  and  being  thrown  by  the  roll  of  the  agitated  ship 
into  the  lee  scuppers.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  saving  myself,  I  tried  to  catch  hold  of  one  of  the  sailors,  who  was 
standing  near  me  ;  but  unfortunately  I  only  succeeded  in  obtaining 
a  firm  grip  of  the  brim  of  his  straw  hat,  which  giving  way,  I  pur- 
sued my  impetuous  career  with  the  fragment  fluttering  in  my  hand, 
until  I  was  fairly  laid  sprawling  upon  my  back  to  leeward.  And 
yet,  amid  all  this  discomfort  —  I  may  say  actual  misery  —  I  could 
not  help  smiling  at  the  disconsolate  appearance  presented  by  the 
few  passengers  who,  weary  of  the  confinement  of  their  cabins,  now 
ventured  to  show  themselves  upon  deck,  and  brave  the  fury  of  the 
elements.  I  have  seen  a  group  of  five  or  six  sliding  from  side  to 
side  in  a  sitting  posture,  utterly  unable  to  help  themselves,  amid 
roars  of  laughter  from  those  who  had  had  the  good  fortune,  or  rather 
the  good  sense,  to  lay  hold  of  a  rope  or  belaying-pin. 

When  I  had  found  my  "  sea  legs  "  and  sea  appetite,  and  knew  the 
names  of  the  ropes  and  spars,  I  really  began  to  feel  an  interest  in 
what  was  passing  around  me :  until  that  time  all  appeared  to  me 
like  a  very  wild  and  oppressive  nightmare.  I  was  also  changed  in 
other  respects ;  for  before  and  during  my  sea-sickness  the  smell  of 
rum  was  so  distasteful  to  me  as  almost  to  produce  nausea,  and  I  was 
glad  to  give  my  daily  dram  to  any  of  my  messmates  who  asked  for 
it ;  the  smell  of  tobacco  was  also  very  offensive,  and  I  often  left  the 
mess  berth  in  order  to  escape  from  the  dense  fumes  which  frequently 
commenced  before  I  had  finished  my  dinner :  but  when  I  began  to 


LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  261 


recover  strength,  and  experience  the  reaction  of  health,  I  summoned 
courage  to  sip  my  grog,  and  found  the  stimulus  thereby  afforded 
grateful,  if  not  beneficial ;  and  before  we  had  rounded  the  Cape,  I 
could  tip  off  a  "  raw  nip  "  (neat  spirit)  with  somewhat  of  the  un- 
flinching nonchalance  of  a  forecastle  man.  By  that  time  I  had  also 
become  a  smoker,  having  at  first  merely  taken  up  a  pipe  in  self-de- 
fence ;  nor  can  I  deny  that  I  had  very  cautiously  commenced  the 
practice  of  chewing  —  having  been  told  that  it  was  an  indispensable 
accomplishment  for  a  sailor  —  beginning  with  minute  quids,  and 
gradually  increasing,  until,  at  length,  my  cheek  exhibited  a  goodly 
protuberance  ;  so  easy  is  it  for  youngsters  to  acquire  bad  habits, 
especially  when  encouraged  by  example,  and  liable  to  be  constantly 
jeered  at  for  their  abstinence. 

We  passed  the  islands  of  Palma  and  Ferro  at  a  great  distance ; 
after  losing  sight  of  them,  we  were  blessed  with  a  moderate  trade- 
wind  and  fine  clear  weather,  and  made  some  very  good  days'  runs. 
The  ship  improved  much  in  appearance  ;  the  decks  were  beautifully 
clean ;  the  crew  were  in  good  order  and  discipline ;  the  passengers, 
of  whom  we  had  forty  —  the  greater  propoition  of  them  young  ladies 
going  out  on  a  well-known  speculation  —  commenced  promenading 
the  quarter-deck ;  the  weather  grew  perceptibly  warmer,  blue  cloth 
jackets  and  trousers  were  discarded,  and  linen  and  duck  worn  in 
their  stead.  On  Christmas-eve  we  were  16  degrees  north  of  the 
equator. 

Christmas-Day.  —  Divine  service  was  performed  in  the  cuddy 
by  Captain  Courtly,  attended  by  many  of.  the  passengers,  a  portion 
of  the  crew,  and  all  the  young  gentlemen.  At  one  o'clock  the  mids 
dined  in  their  own  mess-room,  and  the  dinner  was  really  a  capital 
one  :  the  captain  had  made  us  a  present  of  several  bottles  of  beer 
and  wine,  and  a  shoulder  of  mutton  ;  this,  in  conjunction  with  pot- 
ted meats  and  bouilli  from  our  own  stores,  and  a  plum -pudding,  or 
"duff,"  as  sailors  call  it,  made  a  very  substantial  banquet.  Every- 
thing was  conducted  with  wonderful  propriety  and  decorum,  con- 
sidering the  wild  character  of  the  guests,  and  we  finished  by  drink- 
ing to  the  health  of  all  "absent  friends.'' 

On  the  evening  of  the  26th  we  had  a  variety  of  games,  also  fid- 
dling and  dancing  reels,  in  which  all  the  officers  and  midshipmen 
joined.  This  was  the  first  day  on  which  I  had  seen  any  flying  fish, 
and  now  I  saw  them  in  hundreds ;  they  appeared  to  be  about  the 
Bize  of  pilchards.  When  a  whole  flight  of  them  drop  into  the  water 
after  their  brief  aerial  tour,  they  produce  a  sound  as  if  a  shower  of 
pebbles  had  been  cast  into  the  sea  from  a  considerable  height. 

Dec,   29^A.  —  Becalmed.     Many   stormy  petrels   seen.     These 


262  LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 


graceful  birds  resemble  swallows  both  in  shape  and  manner  of  flying 
but  are  somewhat  smaller  ;  they  are  better  known  by  the  name  of 
Mother  Carey's  chickens.  A  shark  was  seen  prowling  under  our 
gtern,  as  is  generally  the  case  wheu  a  ship  is  becalmed  in  these 
latitudes. 

31s^.  —  Light  breezes.  Lat.,  at  noon,  40®  north.  A  few  minutes 
after  sunset  we  were  all  startled  by  hearing  a  tremendous  voice 
hailing  the  ship  from  some  unknown  quarter,  in  the  following  man- 
ner :  —  "  Ship  ahoy  !  what  ship 's  that  ?  "  Captain  Courtly,  who 
was  willing  to  amuse  his  passengers,  and  seemed  to  enter  with  zest 
into  the  fun,  answered  through  his  speaking-trumpet,  in  his  usual 
clear  tones,  "  The  Weatherly.'^  "  Where  are  you  from  ?  "  was  the 
next  question  of  the  invisible  voice.  *'  From  the  port  of  London." 
"  Where  are  you  bound  ?  "  "  To  Bombay,"  was  the  reply.  "  Have 
you  any  of  my  children  on  board  ?  "  "  Yes."  '*  Then  I  shall  come  and 
claim  them  to-morrow,"  said  the  stranger  ;  and  having  thus  notified 
his  intentions,  he  was  a  moment  afterwards  seen  floating  astern  in 
a  blazing  tar-barrel.  This  was  old  Neptune  himself,  who  seldom 
allows  a  vessel  to  approach  his  grand  boundary  line  without  a 
visit  of  this  nature. 

January  \st  was  an  important  era  in  my  life,  for  on  that  day  I 
first  crossed  the  line,  and  was  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  Nep- 
tune's court.  A  holiday  having  been  previously  granted  to  all 
hands,  a  grand  procession  was  formed  early  in  the  forenoon,  headed 
by  the  saihnaker,  a  humorous  old  man,  who  often  made  us  laugh 
with  his  droll  stories  —  a  sad,  drunken  reprobate  withal ;  he  per- 
sonated Neptune,  in  a  fine  spreading  wig  of  tow,  and,  seated  on  a 
gun-carriage  by  way  of  throne,  flourished  a  three-pronged  grainse, 
which  was  supposed  to  be  his  trident.  By  his  side  was  a  bulky, 
swarthy-faced  man,  wearing  a  woman's  cap  and  shawl,  whom  Nep- 
tune introduced  with  much  gallantry  as  his  wife  ;  and,  to  complete 
the  classical  group,  one  of  the  ship's  boys,  decked  out  in  cast-oflf 
female  finery,  was  placed  behind  them  as  their  hopeful  daughter. 
The  old  sailmaker,  whose  pleasantries  were  never  ofiensive,  passed 
a  number  of  jokes  upon  the  assembled  passengers,  paid  handsome 
compliments  to  the  pretty  faces  of  the  smiling  ladies,  and  then  for- 
mally requested  the  captain's  permission  to  perform  the  customary 
rites ;  a  request  which  was  courteously  granted  as  far  as  shaving 
the  midshipmen  was  concerned,  but  any  interference  with  the  pas- 
sengers was  strictly  and  positively  interdicted.  The  ship's  company 
soon  after  went  to  dinner  :  we  had  scarcely  finished  that  meal,  when 
a  strong  body  of  sailors,  calling  themselves  Constables,  came  down 
to  our  berth,  singled  out  us  novices,  blindfolded,  and  led  us  upoa 


LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  268 

deck,  where  a  large  tub,  full  of  water,  was  prepared  for  our  recep- 
tion. Oa  the  edge  of  this  we  were  seated,  one  bj  one,  in  turn,  and 
questions  were  propounded  to  us  by.  Neptune's  head  physician 
respecting  the  state  of  our  health,  our  age,  and  length  of  service. 
Upon  our  opening  our  mouths  to  answer  his  interrogatories  he  im- 
mediately thrust  in  a  large  bolus,  composed  of  materials  of  a  most 
nauseous  description,  collected  from  the  cow-house,  hen-coops,  pig- 
sties, &c.  This  having  been  done  amid  awful  sputterings  from  the 
victim,  the  barber  was  ordered  to  step  forward  and  commence  his 
important  operations,  which  he  did,  nothing  loth;  and,  by  way  of 
preliminary,  smeared  over  our  smooth  cheeks  a  lather  of  coal-tar, 
blended  with  other  still  more  objectionable  articles,  and  then 
roughly  scraped  it  off  again  with  a  rusty  fragment  of  iron  hoop. 
The  shaving  being  completed,  we  were  tipped  backwards  into  the 
tub  of  water,  and  allowed  to  struggle  out  as  we  best  could  under  a 
shower  of  water  which  descended  from  all  quarters,  even  from  the 
fore  and  main  tops.  The  bandage  was  then  removed,  and  we  were 
at  liberty  to  join  in  the  fun  of  drenching  others  as  much  as  we 
pleased.  The  baker  and  two  apprentices  were  the  only  persons 
besides  the  mids  who  were  consigned  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Nep- 
tune's myrmidons.  The  boatswain's  call  was  soon  after  heard,  sum- 
moning all  hands  to  "  splice  the  main  brace  "  —  a  summons  which 
was  readily  and  cheerfully  attended  to,  sailors  being  generally  ready 
for  a  glass  of  grog.  The  festivities  having  thus  closed,  my  atten- 
tion was  forcibly  directed  to  my  head,  which  was  beginning  to 
smart  from  the  effects  of  the  new-invented  pomatum  with  which 
my  hair  had  been  so  liberally  bedaubed.  My  first  act  was  to 
ask  the  advice  of  an  old  quarter-master,  whom  I  had  engaged  as  my 
hammock-man  and  shoe-blacker,  as  to  the  readiest  means  of  clearing 
my  locks  of  the  abominable  nuisance.  He  smiled,  and  answered 
that  he  was  acquainted  with  an  excellent  remedy,  adding  that  mine 
was  not  the  first  case  of  anointing  he  had  seen,  as  he  had  crossed 
the  line  scores  of  times  in  the  course  of  his  life.  He  went,  therefore, 
to  the  cook's  galley  with  a  handful  of  oakum,  which  he  plunged 
into  the  slush-cask  (slush  is  the  skimmings  of  the  coppers  in  which 
the  fat  salt  pork  is  boiled  for  the  ship's  company),  and,  returning  to 
me,  commenced  rubbing  the  rancid,  greasy  mixture  among  my  hair, 
and  upon  every  part  of  my  neck  and  shoulders  where  he  perceived 
any  blotches  of  coal-tar ;  the  effect  of  this  was  to  decompose  the 
latter,  so  that  it  could  be  removed  by  the  application  of  soap-and- 
water  and  a  rough  towel ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  all  my  exertions,  my 
hair  remained  in  a  very  unpleasant  condition  for  a  long  time  after. 
Before  leaving  this  subject,  I  may  as  well  mention,  as  a  warning 


264  '  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 


to  others,  that  myself  and  two  other  youngsters  were  prevailed 
upon,  under  flilse  promises  of  being  "  let  off  easy"  (that  is  to  say, 
spared  the  infliction  of  the  bolus  and  the  coal-tar),  to  pay  the  sum 
of  one  guinea  each  to  Neptune  ;  and  after  this,  by  a  base  breach  of 
faith,  we  were  forced  to  undergo  the  ceremony  in  its  most  disgusting 
form.  But  I  laughed,  at  the  time,  at  the  idea  of  having  been  so  easily 
imposed  upon,  and  I  have  laughed  often  since  when  I  have  thought 
of  it.  The  fact  was,  that  from  the  moment  we  first  joined  the  ship 
at  Gravesend,  we  heard  nothing  else  talked  of  but  crossing  the  line ; 
and  even  the  men  were  always  joking  us  about  the  terrible  ordeal 
we  should  then  have  to  pass  through :  with  these  exaggerated 
accounts  always  dinning  in  our  ears,  can  it  be  wondered  at  that  we 
gladly  jumped  at  the  chance  of  escape,  or  at  all  events  of  ameliora- 
tion, offered  by  the  payment  of  a  few  shillings  ?  We  must  all  pay 
for  our  experience,  and  many,  perhaps,  have  paid  dearer  than 
we  did. 

When  to  the  southward  of  the  line,  we  met  with  light,  variable 
breezes  for  many  days,  during  which  time  we  did  not  average  more 
than  three  miles  an  hour,  and  were  constantly  exposed  to  pitiless 
torrents  of  rain.  I  was  placed  in  the  same  watch  with  the  senior 
midshipman,  a  rough,  bullying  fellow,  who  had  particular  orders  to 
do  all  in  his  power  to  make  me  acquainted  with  the  different  parts 
of  the  ship,  names  and  uses  of  ropes,  &c.  When  in  a  good  humor, 
he  would  show  me  the  different  ropes,  and  explain  everything  per- 
taining to  them  in  an  agreeable  manner;  but,  in  return  for  this 
condescension,  he  always  insisted  upon  some  concession  on  my  part, 
such  as  my  day's  grog,  the  loan  of  some  article  of  outfit,  or  that  I 
should  keep  his  watch  while  he  skulked  below,  and  be  ready  to  call 
him  instantly  if  he  was  missed  and  inquired  for  by  the  officer  of  the 
watch.  When  he  was  in  a  sulky  mood  he  would  send  me  aloft, 
generally  choosing  a  time  when  the  wind  was  high  and  the  sea 
rough,  and  tell  me  to  go  out  on  each  yard-arm,  and  point  out  to 
him  the  topsail  and  top-gallant  sheets,  and  follow  them  up  to  their 
junction  with  the  sails  which  they  assisted  to  spread ;  and  if,  when 
I  came  down,  I  did  not  answer  him  satisfactorily,  he  ordered  me  up 
again  with  such  a  hurricane  of  maledictions,  that  I  was  glad  to 
spring  into  the  rigging.  By  a  repetition  of  these  practical  lessons, 
I  rapidly  gained  the  necessary  knowledge,  and  became  less  dependent 
upon  others ;  indeed,  by  the  time  the  ship  had  reached  the  line,  I 
had  recovered  my  spirits,  and  enjoyed  excellent  health,  with  the 
exception  of  a  tendency  to  skin  eruptions,  produced  by  the  change 
of  living. 

I  do  not  recollect  when  I  first  went  aloft  to  assist  in  reefing  the 


LIFE   IN  AN    INDIAMAN.  265 


nizzen-topsail ;  but  I  well  remember  that  it  was  before  I  had  thor- 
oughly recovered  from  my  sea-sickness,  and  that  I  was  almost 
bewildered  by  the  hurry  and  noise  attendant  on  the  movements  of  a 
hundred  and  twelve  sailors,  all  pulling,  hauling  and  bawling ;  the 
thunder  of  the  sails  as  they  shook  in  the  wind  preparatory  to  reef- 
ing, and  the  fierce  roar  of  the  angry  wind  itself  as  it  rushed  through 
the  rigging.  However,  not  willing  to  appear  backward,  I  scrambled 
up  to  the  mizzen-topsail-yard  awkwardly  enough ;  and,  although  I 
had  not  strength  to  be  of  the  least  assistance,  I  hung  on  desperately 
with  the  reef-points  whipping  my  ankles  most  cruelly,  and  watched 
the  proceedings  of  the  reefers  as  well  as  the  darkness  of  the  night 
would  allow.  My  cap  and  shoes  very  soon  left  me,  and  went  spin- 
ning away  to  leeward  into  the  sea ;  and,  to  make  matters  worse,  the 
first  attempt  I  made  to  haul  the  wet  and  heavy  canvas  upon  the 
yard  cost  me  the  whole  of  my  finger-nails,  which,  being  rather 
long,  were  torn  off  to  the  quick  by  a  sudden  jerk  of  the  sail,  causing 
the  blood  to  flow  freely.  After  this  severe  lesson,  I  never  went  to 
reef  or  furl  with  my  nails  projecting  beyond  the  ends  of  my  fingers ; 
and  I  also  took  the  precaution  of  securing  my  cap  with  a  rope-yarn, 
and  leaving  my  shoes  upon  deck.  Before  the  feet  become  hardened, 
it  is  very  painful  to  ascend  the  ratlins  without  shoes ;  but  after  a 
few  months  the  soles  assume  a  horny  quality,  and  are  entirely 
devoid  of  feeling,  and  shoes  are  discarded  with  contempt,  as  useless 
incumbrances. 

4:th.  —  We  were  delighted  at  meeting  with  a  homeward-bound 
vessel,  which  proved  to  be  the  French  bark  Gaspar,  from  Guaya- 
quil to  Bordeaux,  by  which  conveyance  we  sent  a  bag  of  letters. 

10^/i.  —  Whilst  divine  service  was  being  performed  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and  nearly  the  whole  of  the  passengers  were,  or  appeared 
to  be,  absorbed  in  their  devotions,  a  sharp  crack  was  heard,  as  of 
something  giving  way  aloft,  followed  by  a  tremendous  crash.  All 
started  to  their  feet  —  the  passengers  rushed  into  the  cuddy,  per 
haps  thinking  that  the  ship  had  struck ;  the  sailors  looked  up  to 
the  masts,  and  it  was  soon  evident  to  an  experienced  eye  that  the 
mischief  arose  from  the  main-royal  backstays  having  been  carried 
away,  and  this  had  caused  both  the  fore  and  main  top-gallant  masts 
to  break  short  off.  I  never  saw  a  more  complete  wreck  ;  the  sails 
were  all  set  at  the  time  of  the  accident,  so  that  they  were  dangling 
and  flapping  about  in  a  most  ludicrous  manner.  There  was  very 
little  wind  at  the  time,  so  that  we  could  only  account  for  the  mis- 
hap by  laying  the  blame  on  the  rottenness  of  the  backstays.  Not 
a  moment  was  lost ;  Bibles  and  prayer-books  were  thrown  aside,  the 
boatswain  piped  "All  hands  clear  wreck!  "  the  men  ran  and  took 


J 66  LIFE   IN   AN    INDIAMAN. 

. ^ —  — — ■» 

off  their  clean  Sunday  clothes,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  rigging  was 
Bwarming  with  human  beings.  So  actively  did  they  work,  that  in 
a  few  hours  the  old  broken  stumps  were  down  on  deck,  and  new 
masts  sent  up  in  their  place,  the  yards  re-crossed,  and  the  saila 
re-set. 

\2th.  —  Fine  weather.  A  variety  of  games  in  the  evening,  of 
an  athletic  nature  —  "  Sling  the  monkey,"  "  baste  the  bear,"  and 
"hip-h  kokolorum,"  —  all  of  the  roughest,  and  attended  with  many 
hard  blows  and  bruises ;  but  they  tended,  as  Jack  says,  to  keep  the 
devil  out  of  our  minds.  Regularly,  after  work  vi^as  over,  in  these 
fine-weather  latitudes,  the  boatswain  piped  "  All  hands  to  skylark ;" 
every  soul  on  board  then  considered  himself  at  liberty  to  amuse 
himself  as  he  thought  best.  The  men  generally  congregated  in  the 
waist,  and  played  at  "  leap-frog,"  "  hunt  the  slipper,"  or  one  of  the 
eleo^ant  games  before  mentioned,  or  would  gather  aft  and  look  on  at 
the  feats  of  the  quarter-deck  heroes.  The  officers  and  midshipmen 
made  a  tolerably  large  party  by  themselves,  and  often  danced  reels 
to  the  sound  of  the  fiddle,  until  compelled  to  desist  by  sheer  exhaus- 
tion, and  this  with  the  thermometer  at  70  degrees.  The  passengers 
would  occasionally  have  a  quadrille,  and  the  ladies  were  nothing 
loth  to  have  a  smart  young  officer  as  a  partner.  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  promenading  after  sunset,  and  tittle-tattle,  and  flirtation, 
when  the  young  cadets  were  uncommonly  killing,  in  their  own 
estimation. 

14.th.  —  A  most  delightful  day.  Passed  the  group  of  islands 
called  La  Trinidada,  scarcely  visible  from  the  deck. 

16^^,  —  Suspecting,^  from  the  quantity  of  nearly  fresh  water 
brouo-ht  up  by  the  pum'ps,  that  there  must  be  considerable  leakage 
from  the  water-butts,  examined  those  stowed  in  the  forehold,  and 
made  the  unpleasant,  though  timely  discovery,  that  no  less  than 
seven  thousand  and  forty  gallons  had  leaked  out  from  the  second  tier, 
which  was  wholly  owing  to  the  weakness  and  inferiority  of  the  butts 
supplied  by  some  rascally  contractor.  In  consequence  of  this  dis- 
covery, the  allowance  of  water,  which  had  been  scanty  enough 
before,  was  further  reduced,  so  that  we  had  only  one  quart  per  man 
daily.  This  was  to  serve  for  washing  and  drinking,  for  soup,  tea, 
and  coffee.  We  suffered  intensely  from  this  deprivation  ;  so  much 
so,  that  we  took  every  opportunity  of  stealing  water  from  the  stew- 
ard's cask  when  he  incautiously  left  it  unlocked.  In  our  night- 
watches  we  often  contrived  to  open  a  cistern  in  which  rain-water 
was  collected  for  the  use  of  the  live-stock ;  and,  although  the  bev- 
erage was  far  from  being  clean  or  palatable,  we  took  such  ample 
draughts  that  the  roguery  was  detected,  and  the  lid  of  the  cistern 


LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  67 

fitted  with  a  stout  padlock.  Having  lost  this  invaluable  resource, 
we  hailed  with  delight  a  heavy  shower  of  rain,  which,  being  caught 
in  the  hollow  of  a  tarpaulin,  was  greedily  sucked  up  in  spite  of  its 
tarry  flavor.  An  old  soldier,  who,  with  his  wife  and  family,  were 
quartered  in  the  berth  adjoining  our  mess-room,  sometimes  took 
pity  on  us,  and  gave  us  a  portion  of  his  own  small  allowance,  in 
return  for  which  we  supplied  his  family  with  the  refuse  from  our 
table.  I  often  used  to  think  of  the  wasteful  manner  in  which  I 
had  seen  the  servant-maids  in  England  rinsing  down  the  door-steps 
and  pavement  with  nice  sparkling  spring  water  on  Saturday  nights, 
and  the  thought  of  it  only  made  my  thirst  the  more  unbearable. 
We  could  have  obtained  water  by  putting  into  the  Cape,  but  the 
can|;ain  did  not  think  the  emergency  sufficiently  great  to  warrant 
his  thus  delaying  the  voyage. 

21th.  —  A  dead  calm.  The  surface  of  the  sea  niovino;  in  Ions: 
undulations,  but  undisturbed  save  by  a  wandering  zepn^T  or  occa- 
sional cat's-paw.  A  boat  was  lowered,  and  a  party  sallied  forth  to 
shoot  whatever  might  come  in  their  way.  They  were  successful  in 
bringing  down  a  fine  albatross,  which  they  brought  on  board, 
together  with  some  masses  of  broad,  ribbon-like  sea-weed,  which 
they  had  found  floating  on  the  surface,  covered  with  venerable 
barnacles. 

28M.  —  Quite  an  event.  After  long  dallying  with  the  bait,  a 
shark  swallowed  the  hook,  and  was  triumphantly  dragged  on  board 
amid  the  cheers  of  the  sailors,  both  white  and  colored.  The  watery 
savage  struggled  tremendously,  and  lashed  his  tail  about  with  such 
force,  that  we  were  glad  to  give  him  a  wide  berth,  for  the  blow 
of  a  shark's  tail  is  sufficiently  heavy  to  break  a  man's  leg.  When 
he  was  at  length  dead,  the  backbone  was  saved  for  a  walking-stick, 
and  the  jaws  and  head  were  cleaned  by  the  fifth  mate,  to  take  home 
as  a  chimney  ornament.  I  tasted  some  of  the  flesh  when  cooked, 
and  thought  it  hard  in  texture,  and  rancid  in  flavor ;  and  yet  it 
might  be  considered  delicate,  after  the  golden-hued  pork  to  which 
we  had  been  so  long  accustomed.  An  albatross  was  caught  on  the 
same  day  by  means  of  a  hook  baited  with  a  morsel  of  fresh  meat. 
These  birds  are  frequently  captured  in  this  manner. 

31s^  —  One  of  our  steerage  passengers  struck  a  porpoise  with 
the  grainse,  an  instrument  which  bears  a  considerable  resemblance 
to  the  trident  of  Neptune,  consisting  of  three  barbed  prongs  fixed 
at  one  end  of  a  staff",  the  other  end  of  which  is  loaded  with  lead,  not 
sufficiently  heavy  to  sink  the  staff"  entirely,  but  enough  to  immerse 
it  a  few  feet  below  the  surface,  thus  flinging  the  barbed  extremity 
into  the  air.     We  made  a  bargain  for  this  fish,  and  had  some  steaka 


2G8  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 

• • ■ —  "       ■  '  ■ .1  ■      ..  ... —  —  -I  —  ■     ..  _        -     ■    » 

of  it  broiled  for  our  supper.  The  flesk  was  of  as  dark  a  red  aa 
beef,  and  resembled  that  meat  in  coarseness  of  texture,  but  was  very 
deficient  in  flavor  and  juiciness. 

February  2.  —  The  weather  being  very  fine,  and  the  wind  nearly 
at  rest,  Mr.  Smart,  the  chief  officer,  thought  it  would  be  a  good 
opportunity  to  give  the  young  gentlemen  a  little  lesson  in  practical 
seamanship.  So,  at  nine  o'clock,  the  midshipmen,  boys,  and  idlers, 
were  all  ordered  aloft  to  practise  reefing  and  furling  the  mizzen- 
topsail.  This  was  very  hot  and  fatiguing  work,  but  of  course  it  was 
calculated  to  do  us  great  service.  We  had  to  go  through  the  whole 
of  the  operations  several  times  before  the  task  was  executed  with 
sufficient  smartness  to  give  satisfaction.  The  only  thing  complained 
of  was  the  excessive  thirst  produced  by  working  so  many  Ixours 
under  a  tropical  sun,  for  we  well  knew  that  the  water-bucket  in  our 
berth  was  as  dry  as  a  bone,  and  that  the  fowl-cistern  was  under 
key  and  piralock. 

^th,  bth,  Qth.  —  Calm,  sails  flapping  heavily  against  the  masts, 
in  consequence  of  a  long  continuous  swell,  which  caused  the  vessel 
to  roll  lazily  from  side  to  side,  a  movement  by  which  the  rigging 
was  much  strained,  and  the  masts  and  yards  kept  constantly  work- 
ing, producing  far  more  wear  and  tear  than  a  gale  of  wind.  A 
long-continued  calm  tries  the  patience  of  all  on  board,  but  more 
especially  the  captain,  for,  whether  there  be  wind  or  not,  at  four 
o'clock  every  day  there  are  forty  passengers  clamorous  for  their 
dinner,  eating  and  drinking  being  the  grand  business  of  the  day 
with  them ;  and  the  ingenuity  of  the  steward  is  put  to  a  great  test 
in  providing  a  sufficient  number  of  dishes.  Nay,  dishes  there  are, 
in  plenty,  but,  generally  speaking,  their  contents  are  most  ridicu- 
lously scanty.  The  poultry  had  died  oflf  by  scores,  the  sheep  were 
running  short,  pigs,  too,  were  scarce ;  so  that,  in  spite  of  the  inge- 
nuity of  M.  Antoine,  the  French  cook,  salt  beef,  from  the  harness- 
cast,  in  all  its  native  ugliness,  was  a  standing  dish,  —  a  veritable 
piece  du  resistance. 

The  passengers,  too,  were  getting  weary  of  the  ship  and  of  each 
other ;  a  newspaper  was  set  on  foot,  but  speedily  given  up  by  com- 
mon consent,  on  account  of  the  personalities  Avhich  crept  in,  and  the 
scandal  which  was  circulated  through  the  medium  of  its  columns. 

Stories  were  circulated  of  ships  which  had  been  detained  in  the 
same  spot  for  upwards  of  six  weeks,  neither  moving  backward  nor 
forward  one  inch;  and  we  all  confessed,  with  lengthened  faces, 
that,  from  the  general  appearance  of  the  weather,  such  was  very 
likely  to  be  our  own  case.  At  length  a  cat's-paw  was  seen  —  the 
yards  were  trimmed ;  from  the  cat's-paw  sprang  up  a  steady  breeze 


LIFE  IN    AN   INDIAMAN.  269 

and  one  that  seemed  likely  to  increase.     Towards  evening  it  had 
drawn  aft,  and  surely,  though  gradually,  freshened  to  a  gale. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  first  night  off  the  Cape,  in  a  north-wester. 
Our  cargo  was  principally  bar-iron  and  shot ;  and  a  few  dozen  of 
the  latter,  from  some  little  oversight  in  the  stowage,  got  adrift  about 
midnight,  and  were  bounding  and  dancing  over  the  bars,  and  rush- 
ing from  side  to  side,  at  each  roll  of  the  ship,  with  a  roar  like  thun- 
der. It  would  have  been  almost  certain  death  to  venture  into  the 
hold,  in  order  to  check  these  missiles  in  their  mad  career,  so  the  more 
prudent  course  was  adopted  of  throwing  down  a  number  of  bales  of 
hay,  which  checked  them,  and  deadened  their  velocity  suflBciently 
to  enable  us  to  secure  them  one  by  one,  and  stow  them  in  places 
from  whence  they  could  not  escape.  It  was  my  first  watch,  that 
is,  from  eight  p.  m.  to  midnight ;  when  it  was  over,  I  gladly  turned 
into  my  hammock,  and,  in  spite  of  the  roaring  of  the  wind,  the 
creaking  of  the  bulk-heads,  and  the  smell  of  rotten  cheese,  (arising 
from  a  private  speculation  of  the  carpenter's,  whose  storeroom  was 
abreast  of  my  hammock,)  I  fell  asleep.  At  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  the  head  lanyard  of  my  hammock  either  broke,  or  was 
cut  by  some  malicious  person,  and  I  found  myself,  quite  unexpect- 
edly, sprawling  upon  my  back,  upon  the  chain  cable,  which  was 
ranged  on  the  deck,  immediately  under  my  hammock.  The  back 
part  of  my  head  had  come  in  contact  with  the  iron-bound  corners  of 
a  sailor's  chest,  and  was  bleeding  profusely  from  a  deep  triangular 
wound.  When  I  had  somewhat  collected  my  scattered  senses,  and 
comprehended  my  situation,  I  jumped  up,  ran  into  our  berth,  bound 
a  handkerchief  tightly  round  my  head,  and  then  commenced  re-sling- 
ing my  hammock,  standing  meanwhile  barefooted  in  the  rusty  water 
which  flooded  the  deck,  and  groping  in  darkness  for  the  blankets 
and  pillow,  which,  when  found,  were  dripping  wet.  While  thus 
occupied,  I  heard  the  boatswain's  shrill  call,  followed  by  his  hoarse 
voice,  rolling  along  the  gun-deck,  —  "  All  hands  reef  topsails.  Bear 
a  hand  here,  young  gentlemen.  No  time  for  tying  up  your  garters 
when  the  ship 's  overboard  ! "  Half-stunned  as  I  was  by  my  late 
blow,  I  went  up  with  the  rest,  and  the  first  thing  that  met  my  eye 
to  windward  was  a  large  water-spout,  apparently  bearing  rapidly 
down  towards  the  ship.  One  of  the  quarter-deck  guns  was  loaded, 
and  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  advancing  column ;  but  just  as 
the  order  was  about  to  be  given  to  fire,  it  dispersed,  being  at  that 
time  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  Scarcely  an  hour  had 
elapsed,  during  which  we  were  employed  in  shortening  sail,  when  a 
whirlwind  was  seen  smoking  along,  which  appeared  to  be  large 
enough  in  circumference  to  swallow  us  up  with  ease.     Every  eye 


270  LIFE   IN    AN   INDIAMAN. 

gazed  on  it  with  some  anxiety,  as  it  came  swiftly  onward,  the  waters 
whirling  and  boiling  with  inconceivable  velocity,  and  all  felt  greatly 
relieved  when  it  passed  ahead  of  us,  although  not  more  than  twenty 
yards  from  our  j'ib-boom  end. 

The  topsails  having  been  reefed,  I  went  below  again,  and  requested 
the  doctor  to  examine  my  cranium.  Having  cut  away  some  of  the 
clotted  hair,  and  probed  the  wound,  he  declared  that  the  skull  was 
intact,  (although  I  imagine,  judging  from  the  scar  which  remains 
to  this  day,  that  the  bone  was  considerably  indented,)  and  dismissed 
me  with  a  strip  of  adhesive  plaster,  not  even  offering  to  apply  it  for 
me ;  so  I  went  to  the  galley,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  captain's 
cook,  the  ingenious  Antoine,  mended  up  the  gap  in  a  very  secure, 
if  not  in  a  very  scientific,  manner.  The  cutting  down  of  hammocks 
is  a  common  practical  joke,  but  then  it  is  usually  done  upon  the 
humane  system  of  cutting  the  foot  lanyard,  which  is  not  dangerous. 
In  the  midst  of  this  rolling,  confusion  and  bloodshed,  we  rounded 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  When  dinner-time  arrived,  as  the  rolling 
was  still  incessant,  we  found  that  nothing  could  be  persuaded  to 
remain  in  a  state  of  quiescence  for  a  single  moment  upon  the  mess- 
table,  notwithstanding  forks  were  stuck  into  it  in  every  available 
position ;  so,  acting  upon  the  ingenious  suggestion  of  our  caterer,  we 
turned  our  table  legs  upward,  placed  the  soup  tureen  and  plates 
inside,  and  then  squatting  down  upon  the  deck,  took  a  mouthful 
whenever  a  convenient  opportunity  offered,  each  man  of  course  help- 
ing himself,  and  looking  out  to  keep  his  own  plate  on  a  proper  bal- 
ance. The  soup  having  been  disposed  of,  some  on  the  deck,  and 
some  down  our  throats,  the  pork  was  brought  in ;  and  as  no  dish 
could  be  expected  to  live  through  such  a  gale,  it  was  placed  for 
safety  in  the  tureen,  and  then,  holding  biscuits  in  our  hands,  by 
way  of  platters,  we  each  cut  off  a  portion  with  our  pocket-knives , 
the  mess  knives  and  forks  had  mostly  rolled  underneath  the  chests, 
and  were  consequently  smothered  in  tobacco-ashes,  &c.  This  was 
all  done  amid  much  laughter  and  merriment ;  many  ludicrous  up- 
sets took  place,  generally  ending  in  the  smash  of  some  article  of  glass 
or  crockery  which  we  could  but  ill  spare.  It  would  be  difficult  to 
form  an  idea  of  the  fun  which  a  scene  of  this  kind  creates ;  whilst 
one  is  laughing  at  his  neighbor's  disaster,  he  gets  his  own  lapful  of 
pease-soup,  and  another  finds  himself  rolling  amid  a  shower  of  plates, 
tin  pannikins,  pork  bones,  and  other  debris  upon  the  sloppy  deck. 

Just  opposite  to  the  door  of  our  berth,  (we  had  been  removed  fur- 
ther aft  during  the  passage,)  which  now  looked  out  on  the  square  of 
the  main  hatchway,  the  third  mate  slung  his  cot ;  and,  sitting  astride 
on  this,  with  their  dinner  between  them,  he  and  the  fourth  mate 


LITE   IN   AN   INDIAMAN.  271 


were  congratulating  themselves  upon  the  cleverness  of  their  manoeu- 
vre. Just  at  this  moment,  the  ship's  bell,  weighing  about  one  hun- 
dred weight  and  a  half,  which  was  hung  on  a  hook,  as  is  usual,  at 
the  fore  part  of  the  mainmast,  having  been  unhooked  by  a  loose 
rope,  descended  the  hatchway  like  a  meteor,  chipped  the  steps  of 
the  ladder,  grazed  the  cot  upon  which  our  worthies  were  discussing 
their  viands,  passed  within  an  inch  of  both  of  them,  and  then 
alighted  on  the  deck,  making  a  very  deep  indent  in  the  teak,  to 
mark  the  spot  where  it  fell.  As  nobody  was  injured,  we  all  laughed 
heartily  at  the  adventure,  but  it  was  really  a  narrow  escape  for  the 
officers. 

^th.  —  More  rollino;  and  reefinsf.     Immense  destruction  of  crock 
ery  in  the  mess-room. 

11th.  —  Poor  old  Daniels,  A.  B.,  departed  this  life.  The  doctor 
pronounced  the  cause  of  his  death  to  be  old  age  and  diseased  lungs. 
He  was  a  quiet,  inoffensive  old  man,  and  had  latterly  been  so  imbb- 
cile  and  helpless  that  he  was  not  much  missed.  We  buried  him 
next  day  with  the  usual  ceremonies.  The  body  was  stitched  up  in 
a  hammock,  with  two  or  three  cannon  shot  at  the  foot  to  sink  it ;  it 
was  then  laid  at  the  gangway  upon  a  grating,  the  whole  decently 
covered  with  a  Union-Jack.  All  hands  were  called  to  "  bury  the 
dead ;"  the  crew  were  ranged  in  order  along  the  deck,  the  officers 
grouped  around  the  captain,  who,  when  all  were  bareheaded  and 
attentive,  read  the  service  in  a  distinct  voice ;  the  grating  was 
sloped,  and  the  lump  of  canvas,  still  retaining  a  ghastly  resemblance 
to  a  pallid,  swollen  corpse,  slipped  off,  and,  plumping  into  the  sea, 
was  immediately  out  of  sight.  That  dull,  heavy  plunge  haunted 
me  for  many  hours  afterwards,  I  know  not  why,  save  that  it  was  a 
sound  which  had  never  before  struck  my  ear.  Since  then,  I  have 
seen  so  many  poor  fellows,  soldiers  and  sailors,  passed  over  the  gang- 
way, that  the  sound  leaves  now  but  a  momentary  impression. 

From  this  time  forward  until  Good-Friday  (April  9),  which  em- 
braces a  period  of  about  five  weeks,  we  had  a  wearisome  succession 
of  calms  and  light  winds ;  the  latter  being  fortunately  in  general 
from  a  favorable  quarter.  We  still  continued  upon  the  short  allow- 
ance of  water  before  mentioned  —  namely,  one  quart  per  diem  for 
all  purposes ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the  assistance  of  these  fair 
breezes  and  smooth  sea,  which  enabled  us  to  slip  along  at  an  average 
rate  of  three  miles  an  hour,  we  should  inevitably  have  been  placed 
in  the  disagreeable  dilemma  of  having  only  a  pint.  As  it  was,  we 
were  beginning  to  think  such  a  catastrophe  far  from  improbable,  and 
it  was  with  great  joy,  therefore,  that  on  Good-Friday  we  saw  two 
native  vessels,  which,  from  the  course  they  were  steering,  we  judged 


J72  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 


had  lately  sailed  from  Bombay.  We  hailed  these  vessels,  and  upon 
their  heavins:  to,  sent  a  boat  on  board  with  an  oJQ&cer  to  ask  them  if 
they  had  any  water  to  spare.  The  poor  fellows,  although  their  stock 
was  but  small,  and  they  had  a  long  voyage  before  them,  willingly 
gave  us  a  portion.  Their  joint  contributions,  however,  did  not 
amount  to  more  than  eighty  gallons ;  but  as  we  might  now  hope, 
with  a  moderate  breeze,  to  reach  Bombay  in  a  few  days,  and  we  yet 
had  a  little  of  our  old  stock  remaining,  this  small  addition  removed 
all  anxiety  upon  the  subject. 

On  nearing  Bombay,  it  was  pleasing  to  mark  the  joy  which  ani- 
mated the  countenances  of  the  Lascar  portion  of  our  crew.  Many 
were  the  questions  eagerly  put  as  to  the  latitude  and  longitude  at 
noon,  and  the  probable  time  of  arrival.  Their  love  of  country  must 
be  stronger,  I  think,  than  that  which  exists  in  the  breasts  of  us 
phlegmatic  Europeans ;  or,  if  this  be  not  the  case,  their  ardent  and 
earnest  manner  of  expressing  themselves  would  naturally  lead  one 
to  suppose  so. 

About  a  week  before  sighting  our  destined  port,  a  holiday  was 
allowed  to  the  Lascars,  in  order  that  they  might  have  an  opportu- 
nity of  duly  celebrating  a  religious  festival,  known  to  us  by  the 
name  of  Obson  Johson.  On  this  grand,  and  to  them  solemn  occasion, 
they  all  attired  themselves  in  their  smartest  scarlet  turbans  (varie- 
gated cotton  skull-caps  embroidered  with  gold)  and  robes  of  snowy 
whiteness ;  and  in  the  afternoon  went  through  a  variety  of  strange 
uncouth  dances,  accompanied  by  much  stamping  of  the  feet  to  a 
certain  slow  measure,  with  a  wild  and  yet  not  unmusical  song,  in 
which  at  certain  intervals  all  joined  in  chorus.  From  the  darksome 
recesses  of  the  fore-orlop  (the  part  of  the  ship  appropriated  to  the 
use  of  the  Lascar  crew)  arose  clouds  of  incense,  and  there  were  per- 
formed many  mysterious  rites,  of  which  the  Europeans  were  not 
allowed  to  be  witnesses :  indeed,  our  men  had  previously  received 
strict  orders  not  to  give  needless  offence  by  impertinent  intrusion. 
I  gathered  from  some  of  the  Lascars  afterwards  that  each  man  had 
to  pass  through  some  kind  of  sword  ordeal,  the  exact  nature  of 
which  I  could  not  precisely  comprehend ;  but  it  appeared  to  me 
that  it  was  resorted  to  in  order  to  discover  whether  any  of  them  had 
proved  unmindful  of  their  religious  duties  since  the  last  Obson  Job- 
son  festival.  Towards  night  they  danced  upon  deck  in  rings  to  the 
sound  of  tom-toms,  and  their  own  monotonous  and  melodious  chant, 
at  the  same  time  flourishing  naked  cutlasses  —  kindly  supplied  by 
the  captain  for  the  nonce  —  and  long  poles  decorated  with  red 
streamers.  This  amusing  and  to  me  perfectly  novel  spectacle  was 
at  length  put  a  stop  to  by  darkness. 


LIFE   IN  AN    INDIAMAN.  i7$ 

April  10th  to  12th.  —  A  strong  breeze  ;  ship  making  rapid  prog- 
ress, and  every  heart  beating  in  joyous  anticipation  of  seeing  land. 
A  number  of  bets  were  now  made  amongst  the  passengers  as  to  the 
probable  day,  and  even  hour,  of  our  arrival  at  Bombay.  A  fifteen- 
pound  lottery  was  also  established,  tickets  five  shillings  each ;  on 
each  ticket  was  written  a  certain  day  and  hour,  and  the  fortunate 
holder  of  that  ticket  upon  which  was  written  the  exact  time  that 
the  ship  came  to  an  anchor,  became  the  winner.  When  the  captain 
happens  to  be  the  holder  of  the  prize-ticket,  there  are  always  many 
most  uncharitable  insinuations  made  to  the  effect  that  he  has  re- 
tarded or  accelerated  the  speed  of  the  vessel  by  his  management  of 
the  sails,  in  order  to  insure  his  own  success. 

ISth.  —  One  of  our  colored  crew,  a  Seedy,  or  native  of  Madagas- 
car, died  after  a  short  illness  this  morning,  and  in  the  afternoon  was 
thrown  overboard  by  his  messmates,  without  any  religious  ceremonies 
that  I  was  aware  of. 

This  day  we  were  favored  with  a  strong  breeze  on  our  quarter, 
which  was  undoubtedly  our  best  point  of  sailing.  With  every  stitch 
of  canvas  spread,  our  ship  was  truly  a  magnificent  sight.  I  have 
often  seated  myself  upon  the  waist  hammock-nettings,  on  a  clear 
moonlight  night,  and  looked  aloft  with  feelings  of  intense  admiration 
at  the  mighty  cloud  of  swelling  canvas  above  me,  and  inwardly  ex- 
claimed that,  of  all  the  works  of  man,  a  gallant  East  Indiaman  of 
the  olden  time  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  to  look  upon.  The  water 
was  very  smooth,  notwithstanding  the  freshness  of  the  breeze,  and 
we  bowled  cheerily  along  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour.  In 
another  day  we  expected  to  see  the  land,  and  you  may  imagine  that 
I  was  all  impatience  to  gaze  upon  the  sunny  shores  of  glorious  Ind. 

Having  now  brought  the  good  old  Weatherly  within  about  a  day's 
sail  of  the  much-desired  haven,  I  purpose  devoting  a  few  pages  to 
miscellaneous  matters  mostly  connected  with  the  manners  of  living 
and  the  daily  routine  of  existence  on  board  an  Indiaman.  The  times 
appropriated  to  meals  are  as  follows  :  —  Breakfast  at  eight ;  dinner 
at  noon ;  supper  at  half-past  five  or  six.  Our  allowance  of  meat 
was  the  same  as  that  of  the  men  —  namely,  salt  beef  and  salt  pork 
on  alternate  days.  Upon  Thursdays  and  Sundays,  which  were  beef 
days,  a  certain  quantity  of  flour  and  suet  was  served  out,  in  order 
to  make  a  pudding,  the  mixing  of  which  was  performed  by  our  mess- 
boy,  one  of  the  apprentices.  The  beef  had  been  so  long  in  pickle, 
and  had  consequently  grown  so  uncommonly  hard,  that  a  very 
small  portion  went  a  great  way.  It  was  so  destitute  of  fat,  that  I 
have  seen  two  mids,  who  had  hitherto  been  on  the  best  of  terms, 
18 


274  lilFE    IN    AN    INDlAMAN, 

become  the  most  bitter  enemies,  merely  from  the  circumstance  of 
one  purloining  a  fragment  of  fat  from  the  plate  of  the  other.  I 
have  heard  people  declare  that  capital  durable  snuff-boxes  have  been 
made  of  this  salt-junk,  or  salt-horse,  as  it  is  usually  called.  Upon 
pork  days  we  had  pea-soup,  which,  in  the  way  it  is  made  at  sea,  is  a 
very  nice  thing.  I  believe  the  only  ingredients  are  soft  water  and 
peas  —  enough  peas  should  be  used  to  make  the  soup  of  the  consis- 
tency of  thin  paste.  On  board  ship,  when  the  peas  do  not  mash  up 
readily,  from  the  hardness  of  the  water,  a  little  soda  is  added  ;  and 
occasionally  the  cook  puts  a  round  shot  into  the  coppers,  which,  from 
the  constant  motion  of  the  vessel,  acts  as  a  sort  of  crushing  machine. 
Sometimes  a  few  lumps  of  fat  pork  are  boiled  up  with  the  soup,  at 
others  a  red  herring,  which  enhances  the  flavor  greatly.  Peas-pud- 
ding {alias  dog's  body)  is  often  allowed  upon  pork  days,  which  is 
serviceable  in  counteracting  the  greasiness  of  the  meat. 

Our  pork  itself  was  as  destitute  of  lean  as  the  beef  was  of  fat, 
and,  from  the  effects  of  age,  had  become  so  rusty,  as  to  be  as  yellow 
as  a  guinea.  But  the  biscuit,  or,  as  we  called  it,  sea-cake,  was  per- 
haps the  worst  article  supplied  ;  from  age  and  dampness  it  had  con- 
tracted a  very  musty  taste,  and  was  literally  moving  with  weevils 
and  their  grubs  —  the  latter  much  resembling  their  cousins  the  nut 
maggots.  Before  eating  it,  we  were  forced  to  give  it  several  sharp 
raps  on  the  table,  in  order  to  dislodge  the  little  strangers  from  their 
snug  retreats.  The  water,  which  was  from  the  bosom  of  old 
Thames,  and  which  is  notorious  for  going  through  seven  separate 
stages  of  putrefaction  before  it  is  in  a  fit  state  for  use,  had,  during 
the  latter  part  of  the  passage  out,  become  so  inky  in  hue,  so  odorous 
from  the  quantity  of  sulphuretted  hydrogen  it  contained,  that,  had 
it  not  been  for  excessive  thirst,  we  should  have  cast  it  from  us  with 
disgust.  As  it  was,  we  were  always  fain  to  strain  it  through  a 
towel  or  piece  of  rag  before  we  could  make  it  available  for  drinking. 
When  it  was  my  turn  to  go  down  into  the  forehold,  and  take  care 
that  the  candle  was  safely  placed  while  the  water  was  being  served 
out,  I  have  seen  a  blue  flame  playing  around  the  hole  when  the  bung 
was  removed.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  cooper  took  out  the  bung, 
and  stooped  down  to  smell  the  water,  in  order  to  ascertain  its  condi- 
tion, he  inhaled  some  foul  gas,  and  went  staggering  from  cask  to 
cask  like  a  drunken  man.  Notwithstanding  the  indifferent  nature 
of  our  provisions,  which  were  certainly  worse  than  I  have  ever  met 
with  since,  we  always  made  a  hearty  meal ;  for  our  exposure  to  the 
open  air  gave  us  enormous  appetites ;  besides,  we  had  a  few  little 
dainties  in  our  own  mess-store,  towards  the  purchasing  of  which  each 
man  had  paid  down  £1 5  at  Gravesend.     These  stores  were  of  course 


LIFE  IN   AN   INDIAMAN.  275 

used  very  sparingly.  They  consisted  chiefly  of  hams,  tongues, 
pickled  tripe,  Normandy  pippins,  cranberries,  pickles,  and  cheeses, 
with  a  few  tins  of  bouilli.  We  generally  had  our  cranberry  pud- 
flings  boiled  in  a  deep  pewter  washhand  basin,  of  the  Mambrino's 
helmet  form.  Sunday  was  the  day  for  the  appearance  of  some*  of 
these  dainties,  when  we  also  mounted  a  nice  clean  tablecloth,  and 
tried  to  make  as  respectable  an  appearance  as  possible ;  but,  curi- 
ously enough,  we  seldom  ate  our  Sunday  dinner  in  peace.  Some- 
times a  squall  came  up,  which  rendered  it  necessary  to  take  in  the 
royals ;  at  others  a  vessel  was  in  sight  showing  signals,  which  we 
were  called  upon  to  answer. 

One  fine  Sunday  during  this  passage  we  were  sailing  pleasantlj' 
along  on  the  starboard  tack,  with  a  moderate  breeze  and  a  lively 
jumping  sea ;  divine  service  had  been  duly  and  decorously  per- 
formed ;  all  the  mids  were  in  their  best  togs  —  blue  jackets,  white 
ducks,  and  glossy  pumps ;  the  boy  had  laid  the  tablecloth,  and 
displayed  to  the  best  advantage  our  rather  diminished  stock  of 
glass,  crockery,  and  Britannia  metal ;  the  soup  was  brought  in  —  a 
splendid  mess  of  preserved  bouilli ;  then  came  the  second  course  — 
salt-horse ;  the  caterer  commenced  carvino; ;  we  were  all  watchinsf 
him  with  hungry  eyes,  when  a  mighty  green  wave  came  rushing  in 
at  the  open  port-hole,  and  washed  caterer,  raids,  beef,  plates,  knives, 
forks,  spoons,  and  all,  out  at  the  cabin-door ;  and,  worse  still,  as  the 
very  climax  to  our  disaster,  the  boy  was  just  entering  with  the 
plum-duiF,  and,  coming  face  to  face  with  the  watery  intruder,  was 
taken  ojff  his  legs,  whilst  the  unlucky  duff  went  rolling  into  the  lee- 
scuppers.  The  man  at  the  wheel  had  luffed  up  the  vessel  rather 
suddenly,  which  was  the  cause  of  the  mishap ;  but  as  it  happened 
two  or  three  times,  we  suspected  that  it  was  done  intentionally,  by 
way  of  joke,  perhaps  by  the  orders  of  the  fourth  officer,  who  dearly 
loved  a  lark.  Of  course,  after  this,  our  dinner  was  a  scramble ;  the 
beef  was  not  injured,  and  the  duff  was  just  eatable.  By  dint  of 
energetic  baling  and  swabbing,  we  got  the  berth  dry  again  in  an 
hour.  In  spite  of  this  inconvenience,  we  always  preferred  running 
the  risk  of  shipping  a  sea  to  keeping  the  port  closed,  in  which  case 
we  had  no  light  save  that  afforded  by  a  small  swinging  lamp,  which 
never  could  be  coaxed  into  brightness. 

Besides  the  amusements  before  mentioned  of  dancing  and  athletic 
games,  we  seldom  found  anything  to  divert  us,  or  to  relieve  the 
monotony  of  a  sea-life,  so  that  any  circumstance  which  afforded  a 
little  fun  or  excitement  was  hailed  with  delight.  One  incident  of 
this  kind  is  so  fresh  in  my  recollection,  that  I  am  tempted  to  record 
it.     After  we  had  baen  at  sea  a  few  weeks,  the  young  cadets  who, 


276  LIFE   IN   AN    INDIAMAN. 

at  the  commencement  of  the  voyage,  sujBfered  awfully  from  the  "  mal 
du  mer,"  got  their  sea-legs,  and  at  the  same  time  recovered  their 
usual  conceit  and  self-sufficiency.  Consequently,  when  they  saw 
the  mids  clambering  aloft  every  day  like  so  many  monkeys,  they 
felt  a  lively  ambition  to  do  the  same.  One  afternoon,  when  it  was 
nearly  calm,  several  of  the  young  militaires  issued  out  from  their 
dinner  in  high  and  vinous  spirits,  and  burning  to  distinguish  them- 
selves in  the  eyes  of  the  ladies  by  some  remarkable  achievement. 
Ere  many  minutes  had  elapsed,  a  few  of  the  most  active  and  enter- 
prising were  seen  plodding  their  way  up  the  mizzen  rigging.  Now 
it  is  a  long-established  custom,  and,  in  my  opinion,  a  very  excellent 
one,  to  secure  hand  and  foot  all  such  landsmen  and  novices  as  shall 
venture  aloft  for  the  first  time,  and  not  to  release  them  until  they 
have  either  paid  their  footing  in  coin  of  the  realm,  or  made  a  solemn 
promise  so  to  do  if  released.  Accordingly,  our  young  adventurers 
were  no  sooner  three  parts  up  the  rigging,  than  half-a-dozen  fine 
active  young  fello\^s  of  our  crew,  who  had  been  slyly  watching  their 
opportunity,  sprang  forward,  each  provided  with  a  stout  lashing. 
The  cadets,  who,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  had  some  notion  of  the  custom 
before  named,  beholding  these  formidable  preparations,  now  strained 
every  nerve  to  escape;  and  a  chase  commenced  which  kept  all 
hands  in  a  perfect  roar  of  laughter.  Young  Hoppner,  however,  a 
six-foot  youth,  ajfforded  the  finest  sport.  A  sailor  had  caught  hold 
of  one  of  his  feet,  upon  which  he  with  much  dexterity  slipped  off 
his  boot,  and  again  scrambled  upwards  until  intercepted  by  the 
futlock  rigging  beneath  the  mizzen-top.  Whilst  endeavoring  to 
struggle  through  lubber's  hole,  his  nimble  pursuer  grasped  his  other 
foot,  and  was  again  left  with  the  same  booty  as  before.  The  inde- 
fatigable Hoppner,  having  wriggled  into  the  top,  jumped  from  ratlin 
to  ratlin  of  the  topmast  rigging,  but  without  his  boots,  he  found  the 
pain  so  unbearable  to  his  tender  soles,  that  he  seized  one  of  the 
backstays,  and  slid  like  lightning  to  the  deck,  thus  escaping  from 
the  disappointed  tars,  who  were  quite  astonished  to  see  such  spirit 
and  agility  displayed  by  a  "lanky  lubber  of  a  landsman."  Poor 
young  Hoppner  had  evidently  been  aloft  before,  but  I  doubt  whether 
he  had  ever  before  slipped  down  a  backstay,  for  the  whole  of  the 
skin  was  stripped,  or  rather  burnt,  from  the  palms  of  his  hands, 
which  generally  happens  to  inexperienced  persons  making  a  rapid 
descent  of  this  nature.  Whilst  this  exciting  and  amusing  chase 
was  being  carried  on,  the  other  cadets  had  been  captured,  and 
tightly  lashed,  hand  and  foot,  to  the  shrouds ;  nor  were  they  re- 
leased until  they  had  consented  to  pay  a  liberal  footing.  They 
had  all  the  good  sense  to  look  upon  the  whole  afiair  as  a  capital 


LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  277 

joke,  and  I  believe  their  captors  were  very  well  satisfied  with  the 
ransoms  obtained. 

The  second  mate  usually  assists  the  captain  in  his  navigation. 
He  and  the  third  mate  keep  alternate  watches,  and,  while  on  deck, 
are  responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  ship,  and  the  proper  manage- 
ment of  the  sails  as  the  wind  varies.  Great  vigilance  is  required 
in  watching  the  changes  of  the  weather,  which  are  sometimes  very 
sudden,  and  show  no  warning  of  their  approach.  The  third  mate 
messes  with  the  fourth,  and,  as  I  have  before  said,  has  charge  of  a 
watch,  at  which  he  is  equally  responsible  with  the  second  mate  for 
the  well-being  of  the  vessel,  and  must  always  be  careful  to  keep  his 
weather-eye  open.  Sleeping  while  on  watch  is  one  of  the  greatest 
crimes  of  which  an  officer  can  be  guilty,  and  is  punished  accordingly. 
The  fourth  mate  is  not  usually  permitted  to  take  charge  of  a  watch, 
but  does  duty  on  deck  with  the  chief  mate,  remaining  forward,  and 
attending  to  the  trimming  of  the  head-sails,  under  the  direction  of 
his  superior.  If,  however,  any  of  the  other  mates  are  ill,  the  cap- 
tain can  appoint  him  to  do  their  duty  if  he  thinks  him  competent 
and  trustworthy.  The  third  and  fourth  mates  are  respectively 
invited  to  dine  with  the  captain  once  a  week.  The  fifth  mate 
messes  with  the  midshipmen,  and  is  their  caterer.  He  assists  the 
second  mate  in  his  watch  in  the  same  manner  as  the  fourth  assists 
the  chief  mate.  Some  of  the  largest-sized  East  Indiamen  carry  a 
sixth  mate  ;  the  Weatherly  did  not,  therefore  I  scarcely  know  what 
are  his  duties,  but  I  presume  that  he  was  placed  in  the  same  watch 
as  the  third  mate,  to  render  him  such  assistance  as  lay  in  his  power. 

The  boatswain  and  carpenter  of  our  ship  were  personages  of  very 
considerable  importance,  as  is  probably  the  case  in  all  vessels  of 
equal  tonnage;  but  our  carpenter  was  held  in  especial  respect, 
being  a  remarkably  shrewd,  clever,  and  well-educated  man ;  not 
only  a  perfect  master  of  his  own  craft,  but  a  proficient  in  the  sci- 
ence of  navigation,  and  well-informed  upon  all  useful  topics ;  in 
fact,  he  was  competent,  in  case  of  any  great  emergency,  of  taking 
charge  of  the  ship.  He,  as  well  as  the  boatswain,  had  been  in  the 
East  India  Company's  service ;  and  some  of  the  mids  hearing  them 
say  that  they  still  had  their  old  Company's  uniform  coatees  in  their 
chests,  coaxed  them,  with  much  difficulty,  to  wear  them  one  Sunday 
at  muster ;  but  such  was  the  universal  laughter  produced  by  the 
appearance  of  their  ridiculous  little  bobtails,  that  the  abashed  war- 
rant officers  speedily  dived,  vowing  that  from  that  day  forward  they 
would  never  again  be  made  fools  of  by  a  set  of  boys.  The  uniform 
of  the  superior  officers  was,  on  the  contrary,  very  handsome  and 
becoming ;  swords  were  worn  by  them,  and  dirks  by  the  midshipmen. 


278  LIFE   IN    AN   INDIAMAN. 


One  day  I  was  ordered  by  the  captain  to  send  the  carpenter  to  him 
instantly,  he  having  discovered  a  leak  just  over  one  of  his  book- 
shelves ;  I  hastened  to  perform  his  bidding,  and  going  boldly  to 
the  "carpenter,"  said,  "Carpenter,  the  captain  wants  you  in  his 
cabin  directly."  The  person  thus  addressed  looked  at  me  with  a 
quiet,  and  perhaps  somewhat  contemptuous  smile,  but  not  deigning 
to  take  any  further  notice  of  me,  he  calmly  resumed  his  labor.  I 
repeated  my  message,  and  insisted  on  the  urgency  of  the  case, 
when  the  "  carpenter,"  as  I  had  unwittingly  called  him,  who  was  a 
tall,  noble-looking  old  man,  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  and 
said,  in  a  deliberate  manner,  "  Young  gentleman,  I  am  the  carpen- 
ter of  this  ship,  but  my  name  is  not  '  Carpenter,'  but  Mauley ;  and 
you  will  further  understand  that  I  have  a  handle  to  my  name  :  you 
will  therefore  please  to  address  me,  in  future,  as  Mr.  Mauley;" 
saying  this,  and  smiling  kindly,  he  hastened  to  obey  the  captain's 
summons,  leaving  me  "  taken  aback,"  but  not  offended,  at  his  just 
and  plain-spoken  rebuke.  I  found  on  inquiry  that  both  himself 
and  the  boatswain  were  entitled,  by  usage  immemorial,  to  insist 
upon  the  addition  of  "Mr."  to  their  surnames,  and  I  never  again 
gave  offence  on  that  score.  In  every  ship  where  proper  discipline 
is  maintained,  these  matters,  trifling  as  they  appear,  are  strictly 
attended  to,  and  with  good  results.  In  the  next  ship  which  bore 
me  to  the  East,  a  craft  of  about  700  tons  burthen,  the  carpenter,  a 
rough,  hardy  Swede,  rejoicing  in  the  name  of  Burstrome,  was  not 
offended  in  the  slightest  degree  at  being  called  "  Chips,"  even  by 
the  black  cuddy  servant ! 

The  midshipmen  are  divided  into  watches,  according  to  their 
number,  two  or  three  in  each  watch.  Sometimes  they  are  appointed 
to  keep  the  same  watches  as  the  mates,  so  that  each  mate  may 
always  have  the  same  mids  in  his  watch.  This  is  very  pleasant 
for  the  mids  when  they  are  upon  good  terms  with  the  officer  to 
whose  watch  they  belong.  We  were  made  to  keep  watch  and 
watch,  (which  is  four  hours  on  duty,  and  four  hours  off,  alter- 
nately,) until  after  we  left  St.  Helena  on  our  homeward  passage, 
when  we  were  indulged  with  three  watches. 

The  midshipmen  are  invited,  two  and  two,  by  turns,  to  dine  in 
the  cuddy.  We  all  disliked  this  ceremony  very  much  on  account 
of  the  inconvenience  attendant  upon  dressing  in  our  wretched  dark 
and  dirty  den.  The  ale  and  wine  we  were  allowed  on  those 
occasions  were  declared  by  some  to  be  the  only  redeeming  points. 
Conversation  there  was  none  ;  the  passengers  appeared  to  view  us 
with  contempt,  and  the  captain  seldom  condescended  to  speak  to 
US  except  in  a  jeering  manner  for  his  own  recreation.     When  I 


LIFE   IN    AN   INDIAMAN.  279 


received  my  first  invitation  to  dine  in  the  cuddy,  I  was  considerably 
agitated,  and  naturally  asked  my  messmates  a  few  questions  as  to 
the  usual  etiquette  practised  upon  such  occasions ;  and  they,  always 
ready  for  a  joke,  told  me  that  it  was  necessary,  upon  my  fost  enter- 
ing the  cuddy,  to  make  a  formal  bow  to  the  captain,  and  then  to 
make  another,  equally  ceremonious,  to  the  chief  mate.  I  followed 
these  instructions  literally,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  my  bows  were 
preeminently  graceful,  for  I  could  see  both  gentlemen  smile  approv- 
ingly as  they  returned  the  salutation ;  but  why  they  should  sud- 
denly turn  away  their  heads,  and  smother  their  faces  in  their  hand- 
kerchiefs, I  could  not  at  the  moment  conceive.  With  my  white 
kerseymere  waistcoat,  blue  swallow-tailed  coat,  with  tremendous 
double-gilt  East  India  Company's  buttons,  stockings  of  immacu- 
late whiteness,  and  polished  dancing-pumps  —  it  is  scarcely  possible 
that  they  could  have  found  food  for  laughter  in  my  personal  appear- 
ance. Be  this  as  it  may,  experience  maketh  wise ;  and  from  that 
time  henceforward  Captain  Courtly  never  received  any  more  polite- 
ness from  me  than  was  actually  required  by  the  discipline  of  the 
ship. 

Place  a  landsman  on  the  quarter-deck  of  a  first-class  Indiaman 
after  she  has  been  two  months  at  sea ;  let  it  be  on  a  fine  Sunday 
forenoon,  just  before  the  hands  are  turned  out  to  muster,  and  when 
every  rope  is  belayed  to  its  proper  pin,  and  the  spare  ends  arranged 
carefully  on  the  deck  in  Flemish  cheeses,  fakes,  and  figures  of 
eight ;  when  the  hammocks  are  neatly  stowed  in  the  nettings,  and 
the  deck  is  so  smooth  and  clean  that  it  seems  a  sin  to  tread  upon  it, 
—  and  that  landsman  will  say,  "  Everything  is  perfect,  everything 
complete,  everything  in  its  place ;  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  to 
do,  so  we  may  put  our  hands  in  our  pockets  and  rest  contented  for 
a  while."  But  the  chief  mate,  that  unwearying  taskmaster,  knows 
better,  as  will  be  best  shown  by  the  following  rapid  outline  of  the 
employments  of  men  and  midshipmen  during  one  day,  which  may 
be  taken  as  a  specimen. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  mornino^  the  chief  officer's  watch  com- 
mences.  The  watch  scrub,  wash,  and  sometimes  holystone  the 
decks.  The  midshipmen  and  apprentices  scrub  and  wash  the  poop, 
and  then  swab  it  up  dry,  taking  a  laudable  pride  in  having  their 
deck  whiter  than  any  other ;  but,  by  the  by,  teak  decks,  owing  to 
the  natural  color  of  the  wood,  never  look  white,  however  clean  they 
may  be,  although  the  tint  is  very  pleasing,  and  affords  relief  to  the 
eye  in  a  glaring  sun.  The  midshipmen  are  expected  to  pump  all 
the  cisterns  full  communicating  with  the  quarter  galleries,  which  is 
never  less  than  an  hour's  job,  and  very  severe  exercise.     At  seven 


I 


280  hlVE    IN    AN    INDIAWAN. 

bells  (half-past  seven)  the  hammocks  are  piped  up ;  and  then,  will 
ye  nill  ye,  every  man  who  possesses  a  hammock  must  jump  up,  lash 
it  neatly,  and  take  it  on  deck.  When  all  are  brought  up,  they  are 
carefully  stowed  in  the  nettings  by  the  quartermasters,  under  the 
superintendence  of  two  young  gentlemen  who  are  called  up  from 
their  watch  below  for  the  purpose.  If  any  of  the  hammocks  are 
lashed  in  a  slovenly  manner,  or  merely  bundled  up  in  what  is  called 
a  "  midshipman's  roll,"  the  owner  is  punished  by  stoppage  of  gi'og, 
and  made  to  secure  it  in  a  more  ship-shape  manner.  Another 
midshipman  of  the  watch  below  is  turned  out  at  six  o'clock,  to  go 
down  in  the  hold  and  act  as  a  candlestick,  whilst  the  cooper  pumps 
the  water  into  buckets  for  the  use  of  the  ship's  company  during  the 
day.  I  often  used  to  drop  asleep  whilst  holding  the  candle,  much 
to  the  annoyance  of  the  poor  cooper.  The  purser,  whose  duty  it  is 
to  see  that  the  water  is  properly  measured  out,  sits  in  an  easy-chair 
upon  the  gun-deck,  close  to  the  hatchway,  with  his  legs  crossed,  and 
smoking  a  Manilla  cheroot,  or  sipping  his  coffee,  with  the  air  of  an 
Eastern  prince.  Our  purser,  who  had  risen  from  the  situation  of 
cooper,  looked  with  extreme  contempt  upon  the  poor  midshipmen, 
and  openly  expressed  his  anger  when  he  saw  that  our  names  had 
the  precedence  of  his  own  in  the  ship's  articles.  He  would  have 
been  very  friendly^and  obliging  towards  us  if  we  had  once  admitted 
his  superior  rank,  but  this  was  a  concession  which  we  never  felt  any 
inclination  to  make. 

At  eight  o'clock,  pipe  to  breakfast :  half  an  hour  is  allowed  for 
that  meal.  After  breakfast  the  watch  on  deck  are  set  to  work  un- 
der the  boatswain,  repairing  defects  in  the  rigging,  putting  on 
Scotchmen,  —  that  is,  chafing  battens  made  of  spHt  bamboo,  — 
making  spunyarn,  sinneth,  gasketts,  mats,  robands,  &c.  The  me- 
chanics —  by  which  are  understood  the  armorer,  carpenter  and  his 
mate,  the  cooper  —  all  set  about  their  proper  occupations.  The 
sailmaker  and  two  or  three  expert  workmen  repair  and  alter  sails 
as  necessary.  The  midshipmen  of  the  watch  on  deck  run  eiTands, 
or  sit  down  and  paint  ropes,  or,  if  squally,  clue  up  and  furl  the 
mizzen  topgallant  sail,  or  royal,  and,  when  the  squall  is  over, 
set  them  again.  Of  course,  in  case  of  a  shift  of  wind,  the  whole 
watch  is  required  to  haul  upon  the  braces;  and  the  mids,  al- 
though not  compelled  to  pull,  are  always  ready  enough  to  lend  a 
hand;  indeed,  he  must  be  an  incorrigible  lazy  one  who  could 
stand  and  look  on  without  a  desire  to  ''pull  his  pound."  Time 
slips  away  quickly  thus  employed.  When  a  midshipman's  watch 
on  deck  is  over,  his  watch  below,  as  it  is  called,  commences,  and 
ha  gets  but  littlo  time  to  himself,  as  it  is  usual  for  him  to  keep 


LIFE    IN    AX    IXDIAMAX.  281 

watch  in  the  hold  when  the  hatches  are  taken  off  for  the  sake  of 
ventilation.  I  have  spent  many  hundreds  of  melancholy  hours  in 
this  gloomy  employment,  with  no  other  companions  than  rats  and 
cockroaches ;  no  sound  save  the  monotonous  rippling  of  the  water 
against  the  bends ;  no  smell  save  the  odoriferous  exhalations  of  thft 
bilge-water,  and  no  sight  save  dingy  casks  and  cases,  bar-iron,  shot, 
and  small  coal.  At  noon  the  boatswain  pipes  to  dinner.  One 
hour  is  allowed  the  men  for  this  meal ;  the  mids  only  get  half  an 
.  hour,  as  they  have  to  relieve  each  other  (I  allude  to  those  who 
have  the  watch  on  deck)  ;  the  oldsters  are  very  apt  to  take  the 
lion's  share  of  this  hour,  and  leave  only  ten  minutes  for  then-  unfor- 
tunate messmates  or  watchmate.  In  such  cases  retaliation  in  the 
same  coin  is  generally  resorted  to,  which  ultimately  brings  the  sub- 
ject under  the  notice  of  the  officers,  who  insist  upon  justice  being 
done. 

After  dinner  the  jobs  of  the  morning  are  resumed.  At  five  the 
sailmaker  stows  his  sails  away;  the  spunyarn,  mats,  &c.,  are  put  in 
the  boatswain's  locker ;  and  the  boys  get  their  brooms,  and  give 
the  decks  a  clean  sweep  fore  and  aft.  At  half-past  five,  or  there- 
abouts, the  crew  are  sent  to  supper,  for  which  half  an  hour  is 
allowed.  After  supper  the  hammocks  are  piped  down  ;  all  hands 
come  on  deck,  and  each  fixes  on  his  own  "dreaming  bag;"  mid- 
shipmen are  stationed  to  preserve  order  and  regularity ;  at  a  signal 
from  the  officer  of  the  watch,  the  boatswain  "pipes  down,"  which 
is  done  by  a  peculiarly  prolonged  stridulous  whistle ;  away  dart  the 
men  simultaneously,  and  tumble  one  over  the  other  down  the  fore 
and  main  hatchways,  laughing  and  jumping  like  so  many  boys  just 
escaped  from  school.  Thus  ends  the  working-day.  The  amuse- 
ments and  skylarking  after  working-hours  have  already  been  de- 
tailed. 

On  Sunday,  when  the  weather  was  fine,  and  there  were  no 
squally  appearances  to  windward,  we  had  divine  service  performed 
upon  the  quarter-deck,  which,  together  with  the  poop,  is  covered  by 
a  stout  canvas  awning,  and  shaded  by  curtains  of  the  same  material. 
The  capstan  is  decorated  with  an  ensign,  surmounted  by  a  cushion, 
a  Bible,  and  a  prayer-book,  and  thus  serves  as  a  reading-desk  for 
the  captain,  alongside  of  whom  stands  the  doctor  or  pui'ser,  to  make 
the  responses.  All  the  cuddy  chairs  are  set  round  for  the  use  of 
the  passengers,  whilst  the  crew  are  seated  upon  capstan  bars,  with 
either  end  resting  upon  a  bucket :  when  the  ship  is  lively  in  her 
motions,  these  rickety  seats  cause  a  corresponding  liveliness  in  the 
sitters,  who  sometimes  go,  half-a-dozftn  at  a  time,  sprawling  to  lee- 
ward.    Wh^n  the  weather  is  wet,  and  the  wind  unpleasantly  strong. 


282  LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAH. 


the  service  is  performed  in  the  cuddy,  when  all  the  men  are  at  lib- 
erty to  attend,  but  the  majority  prefer  passing  the  time  in  their 
hammocks.  During  the  first  few  Sundays  of  the  voyage,  Captain 
Courtly  also  read  evening  prayers  in  the  cuddy,  and  insisted  upon 
the  attendance  of  all  the  young  gentlemen.  At  these  times  he 
favored  us  by  reading  a  discourse  out  of  some  old  sermon  book ; 
but  his  choice  unfortunately  was  bad,  for  the  lecture  was  so  long, 
and  so  purely  doctrinal,  as  to  set  the  whole  of  his  congregation 
a-yawning. 

Sunday  is  a  day  of  rest  as  far  as  wind  and  weather  will  permit, 
but  in  the  course  of  ray  experience  I  have  seen  more  sculls  and 
gales,  and  reefing  and  furling,  on  Sundays  than  on  any  other  day 
in  the  week.  The  crew  are  all  dressed  in  their  cleanest  white 
clothes,  and  lounge  about,  pipe  in  mouth,  on  the  forecastle.  Those 
who  can  read,  eagerly  devour  everything  they  can  lay  hands 
on  in  print,  and  drawl  it  out  aloud  for  the  benefit  of  a  group  of  at- 
tentive listeners.  The  variety  of  their  recreations  is  rather  amusing : 
I  have  heard  one  man  reading  aloud  from  the  "  Quaver,"  a  collec- 
tion of  1000  songs,  toasts,  and  sentiments ;  another  spouting  some 
modern  melodrama ;  another  engaged  in  a  thrilling  penny  romance  ; 
whilst  here  and  there,  apart  from  the  rest,  was  a  solitary  old  gray- 
beard  quietly  reading  his  Bible,  with  a  short  black  pipe  or  dudheen 
between  his  teeth. 

April  16th.  —  At  half-past  six,  in  the  last  dog-watch,  the  loom 
of  high  land  was  seen  bearing  from  the  ship  north-east  by  east  —  a 
welcome  sight  for  the  poor  mids,  who  were  now  at  their  wits'  end 
for  clean  linen  ;  many  of  them  had  been  in  most  awkward  dilemmas 
for  want  of  a  decent  shirt,  especially  when  invited  to  dine  with  the 
captain.  The  steward  was  instructed  to  invite  the  young  gentle- 
men, each  in  his  regular  turn,  which  he  accordingly  did ;  but  when 
the  party  invited  happened  to  be  short  of  clean  linen,  he  would 
swear  positively  that  it  was  not  his  turn,  or  be  suddenly  seized  with 
a  violent  headache ;  and  the  poor  steward  after  being  bandied  from 
one  to  the  other,  would  indignantly  leave  it  to  be  settled  amongst 
themselves  —  merely  hinting  that,  out  of  respect  to  the  captain, 
somebody  must  come  ;  so  that  he  who  had  best  economized  his 
wardrobe  at  the  commencement  of  the  passage,  dined  most  fre- 
quently in  the  cuddy  towards  the  sequel :  a  cu'cumstance  which, 
even  if  noticed  by  the  captain,  would  have  been  a  source  of  amuse- 
ment to  him,  rather  than  of  displeasure.  I  have  often,  when  awak- 
ening on  a  Sunday  morning,  burst  into  a  cold  sweat,  and  my  heart 
has  sunk  within  me  when  the  consciousness  broke  upon  me  that  I 
had  not  a  clean  shirt  wherein  to  make  my  appearance  at  muster. 


LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  283 

Frequently  the  loan  of  three,  or  even  four  colored  shirts  was  offered 
for  the  temporary  loan  of  one  white  one  :  and  still  more  frequently  the 
contents  of  the  dirty  clothes-bag  were  examined,  and  the  cleanest 
of  the  dirty  ones  selected  for  use.  Etiquette  forbade  the  use  of 
colored  shirts  at  the  cuddy  table.  We  were  not  so  awkwardly  cir- 
cumstanced with  regard  to  trousers,  for  those  which  were  made  of 
canvas  or  duck  could  be  rendered  beautifully  white  by  merely  being 
washed  in  salt  water ;  while  the  blue-cloth  garments,  if  greasy  and 
tarry,  were  restored  to  their  original  gloss  by  immersion  in  pea-soup 
— a  plan  which,  incredulous  as  I  was  at  first  as  to  its  merits,  I  am 
now  convinced  is  a  very  excellent  one. 

At  half-past  seven,  Bombay  Lighthouse  reported  to  be  in  sight 
from  the  mast-head,  and  soon  after  it  was  visible  from  the  deck. 
Fired  guns  and  burned  blue  lights.  Stood  in  for  the  land.  At 
half-past  nine  passed  the  Fairway  Buoy,  and  anchored  in  eight 
fathoms,  with  best  bower,  and  furled  sails.  During  the  night  a 
pilot  came  on  board,  and  at  daylight  we  hove  up  the  anchor,  stood 
in  for  our  final  lying-ground,  and  having  there  moored  ship,  at  once 
commenced  landing  the  passengers  and  their  baggage.  From  the  time 
we  began  heaving  up  until  the  final  mooring  of  the  ship,  the  young 
gentlemen  were  employed  upon  the  gun-deck  as  messenger-men; 
which  employment  consists  in  "  lightening  along"  or  lifting  a  heavy 
hawser  called  a  * '  messenger, ' '  which  is  the  purchase  used  for  weighing 
the  anchor  by  the  capstan,  and  which,  in  the  present  instance,  was  cov- 
ered with  a  thick  coat  of  very  greasy  clay,  bespattering  and  bedaubing 
us  until  we  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  Thames  mud-larks.  Of 
course,  under  these  circumstances,  no  leisure  was  allowed  for  looking 
at  the  scene  around  us  ;  therefore  my  first  impressions  of  Bombay 
Harbor  were  not  at  all  agreeable. 

My  duties  upon  the  gun-deck  being  at  length  brought  to  a  con- 
clusion, I  hastened  to  the  upper  deck,  and  there,  for  the  first  time, 
the  beautiful  harbor  of  Bombay,  almost  landlocked  by  fertile 
islands,  presented  itself  to  my  admiring  gaze,  bright  and  joyous  in 
the  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  under  a  perfectly  cloudless  sky  of  in- 
tensest  blue.  Hundreds  of  stately  ships,  many  of  them  the  finest  mer- 
chantmen in  the  world,  were  at  anchor  around  us ;  and  our  own  good 
ship,  with  all  her  yards  exactly  squared  by  lifts  and  braces,  masts 
well  stayed,  and  every  rope  hauled  as  tight  as  a  harp-string,  floated 
as  proudly  as  any.  Then  there  was  the  town,  divided  into  the 
White  and  Black  towns  :  the  former  consisting  chiefly  of  two-storied 
houses,  with  well-chunammed  green  verandas,  and  roofs  covered 
with  pantiles ;  laying  no  claim,  certainly,  to  architectural  beauty, 
but  still  appearing  suitable  to  the  climate.     The  basement  story  is 


284  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 


arched  and  appropriated  to  mercliandise,  the  dwelling  rooms  being 
all  on  the  first  floor.  The  Black  Town  is  composed  entirely  of  huts, 
embosomed  in  cocoa-nut,  banana,  and  other  trees,  which  cause  it  to 
look  very  picturesque  at  a  distance ;  but  it  is  found  to  be  squalid 
and  filthy  on  a  nearer  approach. 

While  I  was  gazing  in  mute  admiration  at  the  beautiful  land- 
scape, a  group  of  the  oldsters,  who  were  gathered  together  on  the 
poop  with  a  telescope,  which  passed  rapidly  from  hand  to  hand, 
were  discussing  in  purely  nautical  language  the  merits  of  the  vessels 
within  sight,  finding  fault  with  some,  and  praising  others,  with  so 
solemn  an  air,  as  they  turned  their  quids  in  their  mouths,  that  even 
I,  young  and  green  as  I  was,  could  not  refrain  from  laughing  in 
my  sleeve  at  their  assumption  of  knowledge :  unfortunately,  they 
never  agreed  in  their  opinions,  and  great  was  the  wrangling  in  con- 
sequence. "  Yon  bark  has  made  a  snug  stow  of  her  sails,"  said 
one.  "Do  you  call  that  a  snug  stow?  —  that  shows  what  you 
know  about  it !  Why,  an  old  collier  would  furl  her  sails  better  than 
that !  " — "  Yonder  is  the  Berkshe  ;  I  know  her  by  the  cut  of  her 
gaffs." — "  No,  it  isn't :  I  '11  bet  any  money  that  it  is  the  Clarence. 
But  see  what  an  awful  steene  she  has  in  her  bowsprit,  and  how 
badly  her  yards  are  squared —  what  can  the  lubbers  be  thinking 
of?  "  and  so  on.  But  I  have  omitted  the  oaths  with  which  these 
oracular  responses  were  rounded.  Then  followed  an  argument 
as  to  whether  Yankee  or  Scotch  vessels  were  in  the  habit  of  carrying 
the  longest  poles  in  harbor ;  an  argument  that  was  carried  on  with 
so  much  heat,  that  two  of  the  young  gentlemen  nearly  came  to 
blows.  If  my  opinion  were  now  asked  upon  this  highly-important 
subject,  I  should  say  that  the  practice  was  most  in  vogue  among  the 
Yankees,  they  being  notorious  for  aspiring  to  pierce  the  clouds  with 
their  moonsail  poles ;  but  in  one  particular  instance  I  saw  a  ship 
from  Grlasgow  which  aspired  higher  still,  the  altitude  of  whose  fine- 
weather  sticks  was  absolutely  marvellous.  My  respect  for  the 
opinions  of  the  second-voyagers  had  gradually  diminished ;  for  al- 
though I  had  at  first  looked  upon  them  with  a  species  of  awe,  as 
persons  who  had  seen  gi-eat  wonders  and  undergone  many  hard- 
ships, —  a  feeling  which  they  seemed  anxious  to  keep  alive  by  their 
marvellous  stories,  —  as  I  grew  older  and  wiser,  I  began  to  suspect 
that  half  their  adventures  were  fictitious  —  mere  children  of  the  im- 
agination. 

The  Weatherly  was  soon  sui-rounded  by  dingees,  (the  native 
boats ;)  and  the  decks  became  crowded  with  dohy  wallahs,  or  wash- 
ermen, soliciting  the  favor  of  our  patronage,  and  bringing  forth  the 
thumb-worn  certificates  which   they  had  obtained  from  former  em- 


LIFE   IN   AN    INDIAMAN.  285 

ployers.  Upon  reading  some  of  these  I  found  that  they  were  far 
from  complimentary ;  indeed,  some  certified  that  the  bearer  was  the 
greatest  rogue  under  the  sun,  and  contained  a  friendly  warning  not 
to  have  any  dealings  with  him.  One  of  these  doby  wallahs  insisted 
on  his  right  to  have  my  washing,  having,  as  he  said,  washed  for  me 
last  voyage  ;  the  rogue  even  congratulated  me  upon  my  appearance 
since  he  saw  me  last !  Then  came  a  host  of  shoemakers,  tailors, 
and  barbers ;  the  services  of  the  latter  were  soon  put  in  requisition, 
and  I  well  remember  having  my  smooth  face  shaved  all  over, 
merely  because  of  the  novelty  of  being  scraped  by  a  native  artist ; 
my  hair  certainly  required  a  little  arrangement,  for  the  last  person  who 
cut  it  was  the  ship's  cooper,  who  did  not  trim  it  exactly  in  the  newest 
London  fashion.  But  the  most  welcome  of  our  visitors  was  old 
Abraham,  the  bum-boatman,  who,  with  his  son  Isaac,  were  engaged 
to  attend  the  ship,  as  they  had  done  for  many  voyages  past,  while 
she  should  remain  in  port.  I  cannot  describe  the  eagerness  with 
which  we  pounced  upon  his  soft  tack,  (bread,)  milk,  butter,  eggs, 
and  fruit,  or  with  what  delight  we  quaffed  his  foaming  toddy.  A 
four  months'  passage  really  makes  one  truly  appreciate  the  good  things 
of  this  earth :  we  had  had  little  else  but  maggoty  biscuit,  rancid 
salt  meat,  musty  suet,  and  putrid  water,  since  we  left  Gravesend ; 
and  now  we  saw  spread  before  us  a  profusion  of  white  bread,  eggs, 
and  milk,  besides  bananas,  mangoes,  water-melons,  and  other  lus- 
cious products  of  the  glowing  East. 

In  conf^equence  of  having  sailed  in  the  same  ship  with  Lascars,  I 
was  not  so  much  struck  with  the  dress  and  language  of  the  natives 
as  I  should  otherwise  have  been ;  and  yet  there  was  much  that 
was  novel  and  interesting  for  my  senses  to  dwell  upon.  The  gro- 
tesque build  of  the  native  craft,  the  numbers  of  turkey  buzzards 
which  hovered  among  the  shipping,  the  voices  of  the  fishermen  in 
their  frail  canoes,  clustering  under  the  bows,  crying  mutchee  (fish) 
in  a  prolonged  and  plaintive  tone,  the  tall  cocoa-nut  trees  among 
the  houses  on  shore,  the  very  odor  of  the  smoke  produced  by 
burning  teak  or  cocoa  wood,  —  all  were  different  from  anything  I 
had  before  experienced.  We  now  set  to  work  in  good  earnest  dis- 
charging our  cargo,  the  most  disagreeable  portion  of  which  was  the 
bar-iron.  It  was  the  duty  of  the  young  gentlemen  to  remain  in  the 
hold,  and  keep  a  correct  tally,  or  account  of  each  bar  as  it  was 
passed  up ;  and  in  the  same  way  with  the  shot  and  shell  —  a  most 
tedious  and  unintellectual  avocation,  during  which  we  were  exposed 
to  the  full  annoyance  of  the  dense  clouds  of  rust.  Our  work  always 
commenced  at  daylight,  and  sometimes,  but  not  invariably,  ceased 
at  sunset.     But  we  were  not  now  expo-^ipd  to  the  horrors  of  hope- 


286  LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 

less  thirst :  water  was  plentiful,  so  that  those  employed  in  the  hold 
always  had  a  bucketful  mixed  with  lime-juice  and  sugar  —  a  most 
refreshinoj  beveraoje,  but  one  which  must  be  used  with  caution  in  a  cli- 
mate  where  the  slightest  excess  of  this  nature  will  induce  dysentery. 
The  water,  which  was  supplied  to  us  from  the  shore,  was  decidedly 
unwholesome  when  used  alone  ;  and  in  consequence  of  this  being  the 
latter  end  of  the  dry  monsoon,  when  the  tanks  are  nearly  dried  up, 
it  was  thick  and  muddy,  of  a  deep  yellow  color,  and  had  a  most  un- 
pleasant earthy  taste :  in  short,  it  was  nothing  else  than  puddle 
water.  From  this  cause,  and  perhaps  from  too  free  an  indulgence 
in  fruit,  especially  pine-apples,  which  are  always  dangerous,  two  of 
my  messmates  had  very  severe  attacks  of  dysentery,  while  I  myself 
did  not  wholly  escape.  The  life  of  one  of  the  patients  was  at  one 
time  despaired  of;  and  he  scarcely  recovered  from  the  effect  of  his 
illness  during  the  whole  of  the  return  voyage. 

I  will  now  try  and  give  some  idea  of  the  great  irksomeness  of 
harbor  work,  which  was  so  disagreeable  as  to  cause  us  to  rejoice 
when  we  saw  Blue  Peter  flying  at  the  fore,  and  heard  the  orders 
given  to  weigh  the  anchor,  make  sail,  and  stand  out  for  sea.  But 
before  this  consummation  we  had  much  to  endure.  I  may  as  well 
mention  here,  among  other  harbor  nuisances,  the  swarms  of  mosqui- 
toes which  buzz  around  one's  hammock,  almost  preventing  sleep,  and 
nearly  blinding  him  with  their  venomous  bites  ;  they  used  to  punish 
me  most  cruelly.  They  are  formed  like  an  English  gnat,  but  are 
only  half  the  size ;  the  body  is  variegated,  black  and  white ;  the 
sting  produces  violent  itching  and  inflammation ;  if  the  wound  is 
rubbed,  and  the  skin  broken,  it  immediately  festers,  and  spreads 
rapidly,  as  I  found  from  sad  experience,  in  a  subsequent  voyage. 

23^.  —  Busily  employed  in  discharging  cargo.  Received  the 
first  boat-load  of  cotton,  and  commenced  stowing.  As,  with  the 
exception  of  Sundays,  I  was  in  the  hold  every  day  from  this  time  to 
the  day  when  the  ship  left  Bombay  —  namely,  June  5  (about  six 
weeks)  —  I  will  at  once  give  a  sketch  of  a  midshipman's  life  in  har- 
bor :  — 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  hands  were  turned  out,  and 
each  person  had  a  quart  of  rice  gruel,  flavored  with  sugar,  and  a 
gill  of  rum  or  arrack,  which  is  recommended  by  the  doctors  as  a 
very  excellent  mixture  to  prevent  dysentery  in  a  hot  climate  ;  it  i& 
very  palatable  ;  and  from  what  I  have  myself  experienced,  and  what 
I  have  observed  in  others,  I  should  certainly  pronounce  it  to  be 
highly  beneficial.  At  six  o'clock  lanterns  are  brought  forward, 
candles  lighted,  and  stowing  cotton  begins.  The  sole  duty  of  the 
midshipman  is  to  look  after  the  lights,  to  keep  them  trimmed,  and 


LIFE   IN   AN   INDIAMAN.  -  287 

to  see  that  they  are  not  put  in  dangerous  situations.  There  are 
three  gangs  of  stowers,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  second, 
third,  and  fourth  officers  —  these  are  the  European  ship's  company ; 
the  chief  mate  overlooks  and  directs  the  whole.  Besides  the  Euro- 
peans, there  are  several  gangs  of  hired  Seedys  —  a  very  powerful 
race  of  men,  I  believe  from  Madagascar  or  the  adjoining  mainland, 
who  are  under  the  guidance  of  a  superintendent  of  their  own  nation. 
These  men  work  well ;  and  it  is  astonishing  to  see  with  what  ease 
they  throw  about  the  closely-compressed  and  heavy  bales  of  cotton, 
and  work  the  massive  screws  which  are  made  use  of  in  stowins;. 
Every  bale  is  driven  so  close  to  its  neighbor  that  sixpence  could  not 
be  insinuated  between  them.  The  Seedys  never  work  without  a 
great  deal  of  noise,  which,  having  some  resemblance  to  a  tune,  and 
being  furnished  with  a  chorus,  must,  I  suppose,  be  dignified  with  the 
name  of  singing.  When  well  treated  —  that  is  to  say,  treated  like 
men  —  they  will  work  cheerfully ;  but  if  an  attempt  is  made  to 
impose  extra  hours  upon  them  without  equivalent  pay,  they  manifest 
a  great  deal  of  independence.  The  heat  down  in  the  hold  while 
cotton-stowing  is  intense  ;  but  apparently  not  injurious  to  health,  if 
a  person  upon  coming  up  does  not  expose  himself  suddenly  to  the 
cooler  air,  while  the  perspiration  is  upon  him.  Flannels  are  univer- 
sally worn,  and  prove  a  great  safeguard  against  too  rapid  evaporation. 
We  only  came  up  to  our  meals,  and  then  down  we  plunged  into  the 
hold  again ;  and  often  did  not  cease  stowing  until  eight  or  nine  at 
night ;  but  six  was  the  proper  hour  for  "  knocking  off." 

The  reader  will,  no  doubt,  agree  with  me,  that  this  was  but  a  poor 
six  weeks'  amusement  for  a  youngster.  One  day  the  men  on  the 
upper  deck  commenced  hurling  the  bales  down  into  the  hold  without 
giving  any  previous  notice  to  stand  from  under,  and  I,  happening 
to  be  just  then  passing  under  the  hatch-way,  escaped  by  a  miracle  : 
the  rope  with  which  the  bale  was  secured  had  grazed  my  shoulders 
slightly,  but  no  other  injury  was  done  save  my  being  stunned  for  a 
few  moments  by  the  suddenness  of  the  concussion.  The  Seedys 
raised  a  yell,  to  warn  those  on  deck  to  avast  heaving,  and  removed 
me  from  the  place  of  danger,  evincing  the  greatest  solicitude  for  my 
safety ;  nor  would  they  believe  that  I  was  unhurt  until  they  saw 
me  walking  about  again  as  usual.  Poor  fellows !  they,  too,  had  kind 
and  feeling  hearts,  uncouth,  uncivilized  niggers  as  they  were  termed. 

May  21s^  still  found  us  fully  employed  in  stowing  cotton ;  but 
we  had  by  this  time  brought  our  cargo  within  a  short  space  of  the 
hatchways,  which  was  very  fortunate,  as  the  weather  now  became 
oppressively  hot,  as  is  always  the  case  at  this  time  of  the  year 


288  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 

Heavy  stormy  appearances  were  observed  daily,  with  light,  variable 
winds,  and  sometimes  rain,  thunder,  and  lightning. 

June  hth.  —  Left  Bombay  for  England,  with  light  westerly 
breezes,  and  fine  weather,  but  a  heavy  swell  from  the  south-west, 
which  proved  that  it  had  been  blowing  hard  from  that  quarter,  and 
showed  us  but  too  plainly  what  we  might  reasonably  expect  when 
we  got  outside.  It  is  perhaps  needless  to  remark  here,  that  June  is 
the  month  in  which  the  change  of  the  monsoons,  or  periodical  winds, 
takes  place  from  north-east  to  south-west  upon  this  coast,  and  that 
they  invariably  blow  with  terrific  violence  at  their  first  setting-in,  aa 
well  as  at  their  termination. 

^th.  —  Moderate  breezes  at  noon,  with  heavy  masses  of  black 
clouds,  and  constant  thunder.  Towards  evening,  variable  winds, 
with  strong  pufis,  and  much  rain.  I  noticed  on  this  day  that, 
although  we  were  several  miles  from  the  land,  the  ship  was  swarm- 
ing with  butterflies  and  sphinges,  which  seemed  to  have  taken  shelter 
from  the  hurricane  which  their  instinct  taught  them  was  brewing. 

7M.  —  Forenoon,  light  breeze  and  rain.  Afternoon,  breeze  in- 
creasing rapidly,  with  very  severe  squalls,  until  it  blew  a  heavy 
gale,  with  still  stronger  squalls,  and  a  tremendously  high  sea  run- 
ning. 

8iA.  —  The  sea  had  now  risen  to  a  fearful  height ;  the  squalls 
were  so  heavy,  as  to  threaten  us  not  only  with  the  loss  of  our  sails, 
but  of  our  spars  also.  AVe  were,  in  fact,  in  a  very  awkward  predica- 
ment, being  on  a  lee-shore,  and  unable  to  show  any  canvas  to  the 
gale,  on  account  of  the  crankness  of  our  vessel.  At  three  a.  m.,  the 
horizon  to  windward  looked  blacker  than  ever,  and  I,  being  on  watch 
at  the  time  with  the  third  mate,  ignorant  as  I  was  of  tropical  phe- 
nomena, thought  that  there  was  mischief  coming ;  and  scarcely  had 
this  thought  passed  through  my  mind,  when  a  blast  of  wind  struck 
the  ship,  so  as  to  lay  her  very  nearly  on  her  beam-ends,  and  she 
was  yet  heeling  over  still  more,  insomuch  that  she  would  inevitably 
have  "  turned  turtle,"  as  sailors  say,  had  not  the  mainsail  fortunately 
split,  with  a  roar  like  thunder.  You  can  form  no  idea  of  the  up- 
roar which  was  caused  by  the  huge  fragments  of  heavy  canvas  flap- 
ping in  the  gale  :  it  was  harsh,  strange,  and  deafening.  The  blast 
passed  over,  but  the  gale  itself  freshened.  The  hands  were  turned 
out,  the  remaining  shreds  of  the  mainsail  secured,  the  topsails  treble 
reefed,  and  the  foresail  hauled  close  up.  At  four  a.  m.,  finding  the 
squalls  increase  in  severity,  and  that  the  ship  was  drifting  bodily^ 
at  a  rapid  rate,  towards  the  land,  moreover  lying  nearly  on  her 
beam-ends  under  snug  canvas,  we  sent  down  the  top-gallant  yards 
and  masts,  scuttled  all  the  water-butts  which  were  stowed  in  the 


LIFE   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  289 

waist  on  the  upper  deck ;  and  at  six  a.  m.,  finding  the  ship  still  drift- 
ing very  fast  towards  the  shore,  the  captain  held  a  consultation  with 
the  chief  and  second  ofiicer  and  carpenter,  and  after  due  considera- 
tion of  the  danger  of  the  ship's  position,  being  then  within  a  few 
miles  of  an  iron-bound  coast,  where,  in  the  event  of  striking, 
destruction  would  have  been  inevitable,  and  also  considering  the 
threatening  aspect  of  the  weather,  it  was  determined  to  throw  over- 
board part  of  the  gnn-deck  cargo.  This  was  accordingly  done  with- 
out delay,  to  the  extent  of  upwards  of  one  hundred  bales  of  cotton 
and  wool,  in  addition  to  which,  one  of  the  quarter-deck  carronades 
was  launched  out  at  the  gangway.  At  ten  a.  m.,  another  mainsail 
was  with  difficulty  bent ;  the  tr^le-reefed  topsails,  which  had  been 
lowered  to  the  cap,  were  hoisted ;  and  at  noon  we  ventured  to  set 
the  foresail  and  reefed  mainsail.  At  the  time  of  throwinsj  the  cot- 
ton  overboard,  the  sea  was  runnino;  what  the  sonoj-books  call  raoun- 
tains  high  —  which,  by  the  by,  is  not  an  inappropriate,  though  hack- 
neyed simile.  The  cold  rain  drenched  us  to  the  skin,  and  five 
planks  of  the  upper  deck  were  under  water,  so  much  was  the  vessel 
heeled  over.  Solid  green  seas  kept  bursting  over  us,  in  such  pon- 
derous masses,  that  the  poor  half-drowned  doctor  (the  usual  name  for 
the  cook)  could  not  get  his  fire  to  burn  in  the  caboose,  so  that  we 
were  forced  to  make  a  meal  oS"  raw  pork  and  biscuit,  which,  how- 
ever, was  not  so  very  unpalatable  when  washed  down  with  a  goodly 
dram  of  arrack. 

I  will  leave  the  reader  to  imagine  how  glad  we  were  to  see  the 
black  rocky  coast  gradually  growing  more  and  more  indistinct.  If 
the  gale  had  not  slightly  moderated  towards  the  afternoon,  as  I  have 
mentioned,  I  should  not  now,  in  all  probability,  be  living  to  tell  the 
tale.  Our  mess-room  needed  but  this  adventure  to  put  the  finish- 
ing stroke  to  its  wretchedness  and  discomfort.  The  plate-racks  had 
come  down,  nearly  all  the  crockery  and  glass  were  demolished,  our 
chests  were  adrift  (mine,  especially,  in  which  a  bottle  of  mango 
chutnee  was  smashed,  and  the  contents  soaked  into  my  stock  of 
clean  white  shirts),  the  legs  of  the  table  broken,  our  oil-can  had 
sprung  a  leak,  and  the  lamp-oil  was  dripping  into  our  jar  of  moist 
sugar ;  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  voyage  we  were  glad  to  drmk 
our  tea  out  of  tin  pots  called  pannikins,  and  eat  our  dinners  off 
pewter  —  no  great  hardship  certainly,  but  a  much  humbler  way 
of  dining  than  we  were  accustomed  to  at  the  commencement  of  the 
voyage. 

^tk.  —  Although,  fortunately,  the  gale  moderated  sufficiently  to 
allow  of  our  gaining  a  secure  offing,  it  «oon  renewed  its  bitterest 
fiiry ;  but  all  apprehensions  for  our  safety  were  now  over  ;  w©  had 
19 


290  I^FB   IN   AN    INDIAMAN. 


a  fine  ship,  as  tight  as  ever  floated,  a  good  crew,  and  smart  officers, 
so  that  with  good  sea-room  we  knew  we  could  weather  many  a  hard 
gale  yet. 

The  gale  had  been  increasing  towards  midnight  of  the  8th,  and 
on  the  morning  of  the  9th  we  were  forced  to  heave-to  under  small 
canvas.  At  half-past  ten  it  bbw  with  tenfold  fury,  or,  as  Jack 
says,  ''  there  was  a  fresh  hand  at  the  bellows."  The  squalls  were 
even  more  violent  than  on  that  fearful  night  when  we  lost  our  new 
mainsail ;  we  therefore  shortened  sail  yet  more. 

ISth.  —  Frequent  light  squalls,  accompanied  with  rain.  At 
night,  two  whirlwinds  were  seen,  which,  from  their  phosphorescence, 
appeared  like  immense  revolving  globes  of  fire. 

l^th.  —  While  washing  decks  in  the  morning  watch,  I  saw  a 
tremendous  fish  under  the  quarter,  with  two  heads  on  its  shoulders ; 
it  was  broad  and  flat,  like  a  skate,  and  might  have  been  ten  feet 
long  and  eight  feet  broad.  It  was  a  hideous-looking  creature ;  I 
was  told  that  the  common  name  for  it  was  the  Devil-Fish. 

We  now  learned  that  we  were  bound  to  the  Isle  of  France  (the 
Mauritius)  for  water ;  for,  as  I  have  before  had  occasion  to  state, 
we  were  obliged  to  scuttle  all  the  water-bulks  which  were  stowed  on 
the  upper  deck,  in  order  to  ease  the  ship  of  her  top  weight. 

18^.  —  Crossed  the  line  during  the  night.  From  this  day  until 
the  30th,  not  a  day  or  night  passed  without  squalls  and  heavy  chilly 
rain,  so  that  dry  clothes  were  absolutely  at  a  premium. 

July  1st.  —  A  pleasant  day.     The  trade,  and  fine,  clear  weather. 

2d.  —  The  island  of  Roderigo  was  seen  from  the  mast-head ;  but 
from  the  prevalence  oF  light  winds  and  calms,  we  did  not  get  to  the 
Isle  of  France  before  Tuesday,  July  6.  At  eleven  a.  si.  on  that 
day  we  anchored  a  cable's  length  outside  of  the  Bell  Buoy.  I  had 
no  opportunity  of  going  on  shore  here,  but  I  was  very  much  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  the  island  as  seen  from  the  roads ;  it  appeared  to 
be  a  succession  of  mountains  and  ravines,  interspersed  with  fine 
patches  of  table-land,  which  were  highly  cultivated,  the  light-green 
yellow  of  the  sugar  pieces  and  the  dark  hue  of  the  coffee  ridges 
presenting  to  the  eye  a  pleasing  diversity  of  color. 

7th.  —  Ci'ew  employed  hoisting  in  water. 

8M.  —  Blowing  fresh  ;  anchor  dragged ;  veered  out  chain  to  one 
hundred  and  ten  fathoms.  Very  severe  gasts  off  the  land.  A  lady 
and  gentleman  left  the  vessel,  to  remain  in  the  island ;  and  this 
reminds  me  that  I  have  entirely  forgotten  to  take  notice  of  our 
homeward-bound  passengers.  These,  with  the  exception  of  the  pair 
now  mentioned,  consisted  tf  a  veteran  sun-browned  major,  his  young 
wife,  and  two  lovely  flaxen-haired  boys ;  the  widow  of  a  captain, 


LIFE    IN    AN   INDIAMAN.  291 


with  her  little  girl ;  and  several  natives  in  the  service  of  these  par- 
ties. There  was  thus  in  our  case,  as  in  all  others,  comparatively 
few  returning  from  a  land  which,  while  the  field  of  easy  fortune  to 
some,  becomes  the  grave  to  thousands  of  the  brave  and  beautiful  of 
our  countrymen  and  countrywomen. 

At  nine  a.  m.,  weighed  and  loosed  sails.  The  anchorage  at  the 
Isle  of  France  is  one  of  the  worst  known  ;  as  a  proof  of  which,  I 
may  mention  that  when  we  got  our  anchor  to  the  bows,  we  found 
that  both  flukes  were  gone.  These  latitudes  are  all  liable  to  terrific 
hurricanes  in  the  months  of  March,  April,  and  May. 

From  the  Mauritius  to  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  we  had  a  strange 
medley  of  fine  and  bad  weather,  light  winds  and  fair,  followed  by 
squalls,  thunder,  lightning,  and  rain.  The  young  gentlemen  were 
constantly  exercised  in  sending  up  and  down  yards  and  masts. 

1'^th  and  2^th.  —  We  experienced  an  entire  calm.  We  were 
then  off  Cape  Francois,  on  the  Aiguilhas  or  L'Agulhas  bank.  A 
scene  now  commenced  which,  I  fear,  will  prove  too  much  for  my 
powers  of  description.  Fish  of  all  sizes  were  caught  with  hooks  by 
hundreds  ;  anybody  who  could  procure  a  few  fathoms  of  twine  and 
a  rusty  old  fish-hook,  baited  with  the  smallest  possible  morsel  of 
pork,  was  certain  of  a  bite.  I  caught  twenty  or  thirty  with  very 
inferior  tackle,  whilst  those  who  were  better  provided  pulled  them 
in  as  fast  as  they  could  drop  their  baits  into  the  water.  It  was  the 
most  amusing  sight  I  ever  witnessed,  and  seemed  to  partake  of  the 
character  of  a  fantastic  dream.  Every  soul  in  the  ship  was  a  fisher- 
man that  day,  from  the  captain  seated  on  the  tafi"rail,  with  his  beau- 
tiful line  and  polished  hooks,  to  the  little  apprentice  at  the  jib-boom 
end,  with  his  tangled  twine  (stolen  from  the  sail  maker)  and  crooked 
pin.  I  did  not  know  the  names  of  any  of  the  fish,  but  the  sailors, 
as  usual,  found  names  for  them  all.  There  were  some  which,  from 
their  scaliness  and  peculiarity  of  form,  were  called  Cape  salmon,  but 
in  flavor  they  difiered  entirely  from  our  fish  of  that  name ;  others, 
with  enormous  heads  and  wide  mouths,  were  called  Cape  cod ;  these 
were  obtained  of  great  size ;  one  of  the  largest  weighed  sixty-four 
pounds.  There  were  many  other  smaller  species ;  all,  without 
exception,  proved  to  be  excellent  eating.  Having  now  a  great  deal 
more  fish  than  we  could  eat  whilst  fresh,  we  cut  them  open,  and, 
sprinkling  them  with  pepper  and  salt,  hung  them  up  in  the  air  to 
dry.     Our  mess-boy  had  his  hands  full  enough  of  work. 

A  breeze  springing  up,  we  saw  Table  Mountain  on  Friday,  July 
30th ;  and  after  much  baffling  with  light  breezes,  about  the  7th  of 
August  we  fell  in  with  a  tolerably  steady  south-easterly  wind,  which 
is  in  those  parts  called  the  trade- wind.     The  south-east  trade  is  said 


292  LIFE    IN    AN   INDIAMAN. 


Dy  the  old  sailors  never  to  have  been  so  steady  since  the  East  India 
Company  resigned  their  charter  as  a  commercial  body.  We  found 
it  blew  true  enough  to  the  point ;  the  sea  was  smooth,  the  sky  cloud- 
less, and  the  moonlight  nights  were  absolutely  enchanting;  the  stars 
were  numerous  and  brilliant,  and  the  air  bewitchingly  soft  and 
balmy.  The  sails  being  once  set,  and  the  yards  laid  square,  we  had 
nothing  to  do  but  make  all  the  ropes  fast,  and  go  to  sleep  in  the 
night,  whilst  during  the  day  we  painted  and  beautified  the  ship  both 
internally  and  externally ;  indeed,  we  required  a  little  rest,  after 
the  months  of  rude  buffeting  among  gales  and  squalls  which  we 
had  lately  experienced. 

Sleeping  upon  deck  is  called,  I  know  not  why,  "  calking ;"  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  midshipmen  are  more  practised  "  calk- 
ers  "  than  any  others  on  board.  During  the  trades,  the  youngest 
midshipman  regularly  came  on  deck  to  keep  his  night-watch,  stag- 
gering under  the  weight  of  his  "  calking-irons  "  —  by  which  the 
reader  is  to  understand  that  he  brought  up  five  greatcoats,  whether 
his  own  or  his  messmates  he  was  not  very  particular  about.  I  never 
knew  such  a  boy  for  sleep,  nor  one  who  did  it  so  systematically ;  he 
had  one  coat  on  his  back,  another  for  a  pillow,  one  to  lay  under 
him,  and  two  to  lay  over  him ;  and,  thus  furnished,  he  slept  for  two 
hours  as  comfortably  as  if  swinging  in  his  hammock.  When  there 
were  two  midshipmen  in  a  watch,  they  agreed  to  divide  the  four 
hours  between  them,  each  taking  two  hours'  sleep,  and  two  hours  to 
keep  awake  and  strike  the  bells.  The  officers  of  the  respective 
watches,  knowing  that  young  people  require  rest,  good-naturedly 
acquiesced  in  or  rather  winked  at  this  pleasant  arrangement,  which, 
if  it  had  been  faithfully  carried  out,  would  have  succeeded  admira- 
bly, and  given  satisfaction  to  all  parties ;  but,  unfortunately,  nine 
times  out  of  ten,  the  lazy  young  vagabond,  who  ought  to  have  been 
on  the  alert,  was  found  in  a  deep  slumber  by  the  side  of  his  watch- 
mate  whose  turn  it  was  to  sleep.  The  call  for  "  young  gentlemen  " 
was  unanswered,  and  then  the  incensed  officers  insisted  upon  both 
walkinof  the  deck  for  the  whole  of  the  four  hours  —  the  most  dread- 
ful  punishment  that  could  well  be  invented  for  these  sleepy- headed 
youngsters.  I  have  myself  fallen  fast  asleep  whilst  sitting  on  a 
bucketful  of  water  before  commencing  to  wash  decks,  and  been 
rudely  aroused  by  the  capsizing  of  the  bucket,  caused  by  the  ship's 
motion,  and  found  myself  sprawling  in  a  pool  of  water ;  and  yet  I 
was  always  considered  to  be  the  most  wakeful  in  the  mess. 

We  passed  several  ships  whilst  running  up  the  trades,  and  ex- 
changed numbers  occasionally. 

On  the  morning  of  Sunday,  August  15,  at  7.40  a.  m.,  saw  the 


LITB   IN    AN    INDIAMAN.  203 

island  of  St.  Helena  rising  like  a  huge  precipitous  rock  from  the 
ocean.  The  duty  of  the  ship  —  that  is,  preparing  to  come  to  an 
anchor  —  prevented  the  performance  of  divine  service.  At  11.30 
anchored  in  James  Town  Koads  in  nineteen  fathoms  with  sheet- 
anchor.  We  found  lying  here  the  most  beautiful  model  of  a  vessel 
that  can  be  imagined ;  she  was  a  long,  low,  clipper-built  craft,  one 
of  the  slavers  captured  by  our  indefatigable  though  useless  cruisers. 
Captain  Courtly  and  others  went  on  board,  and  they  said  she  was 
quite  a  picture  —  all  her  belaying-pins  of  highly-polished  brass, 
ring-bolts  grafted  over  with  the  greatest  neatness,  mahogany  fife- 
rails,  &c. ;  and  the  chief  cabin  was  furnished  in  a  style  of  positive 
luxury.  The  slaves,  with  which  the  vessel  was  found  to  be  crammed 
"when  taken,  were  still  detained  on  board,  on  account  of  their  having 
some  contagious  disease,  of  which  they  were  daily  perishing  by 
scores,  and  which  rendered  it  imprudent  to  land  them.  During  our 
short  stay  we  procured  several  sacks  of  water-cresses,  which,  after 
our  long-continued  salt  fare,  were  an  inestimable  luxury ;  knowing 
how  wholesome  they  were  under  our  peculiar  circumstances,  we 
devoured  them  in  enormous  quantities  medicinally. 

James  Town  has  a  pretty  appearance  from  the  anchorage,  lying 
as  it  does  embowered  in  trees  in  a  sort  of  valley  or  large  ravine,  with 
the  high  and  barren  rocks  rising  around  it,  the  summits  of  which 
are  strongly  fortified  and  bristling  with  cannon,  some  of  which  are 
placed  in  such  positions  as  to  make  the  gazer  wonder  how  they  could 
have  been  got  there.  We  could  see  a  clump  of  dark  trees  on  an 
eminence  behind  the  town,  rather  to  the  left,  which  we  were  told 
was  the  estate  of  Longwood,  of  Napoleon  celebrity.  The  island  to 
seaward  generally  presents  to  the  view  a  perpendicular  wall  of 
gloomy  rock  of  immense  height. 

August  16^/i.  — At  four,  p.  m.,  we  left  St.  Helena,  and  made  all 
sail  with  a  good  trade-wind  for  England. 

October  bth.  —  At  11.30,  p.  m.,  saw  the  Start  Light,  and  on 
Wednesday,  the  6th,  passed  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

1th.  — Took  a  pilot  on  board.     Passed  Dover. 

9^^.  —  In  the  river.  It  being  a  drizzly,  disagreeable  morning,  Mr. 
Smart  determined  upon  giving  the  young  gentlemen  a  final  benefit. 
He  ordered  them  all  to  come  on  deck  and  wash  the  poop ;  but  some 
of  us  having  only  come  off  watch  at  four  o'clock,  others  having  no 
inclination  to  get  a  wet  jacket,  and  all  feeling  a  spirit  of  indepen- 
dence now  they  were  in  England,  we  flatly  refused  to  obey  his  sum- 
mons ;  long  did  he  bellow  down  the  main  hatchway  in  furious  tones, 
and  lon"j  did  we  sit  and  mock  at  his  fruitless  rasfe.  But  fear  of  the 
consequences  at  length  made  us  ereep  up  one  by  one,  and  then  we 


294  LIFE    IN    AN    INDIAMAN. 

were  called  up  for  punishment.  Every  one  of  the  mutineers  was 
mast-headed.  I  was  sent  to  the  mizzen-topmast-head,  and  ordered 
to  scrape  sundry  spots  of  grease  and  tar  from  off  the  paintwork  of 
the  cap  and  masthead.  I  remained  there  four  hours ;  and  as  the 
job  which  I  had  to  do  was  merely  nominal,  I  passed  that  time  most 
delightfully,  in  watching  the  manoeuvres  of  the  hundreds  of  vessels 
which  constantly  crossed  the  river.  It  was  amusing,  from  my 
elevated  position,  to  watch  the  swift  little  steamboats  dexterously 
threading  their  way  amongst  the  groups  of  dingy-looking  coal  brigs, 
and  to  see  our  men  at  work  washing  the  decks,  looking  like  so  many 
pigmy  automata.  This  was  the  first  mast-heading  I  ever  had  for 
punishment,  and  the  last  also ;  as  it  was  not  for  a  very  heinous 
offence,  I  am  not  ashamed  of  giving  it  a  place  in  this  faithful  narra- 
tive. At  eight  o'clock  we  were  all  ordered  to  come  down.  We  ate 
our  breakfast  with  a  keen  appetite,  as  was  proved  by  the  rapid  dis- 
appearance of  several  quatern  loaves,  with  butter  to  match,  which 
we  had  purchased  alongside. 

10th.  —  Passed  Gravesend  during  the  night,  in  tow  of  two  steam- 
tugs,  and  brought  up  off  Purfleet. 

12th.  —  Arrived  in  Blackwall  import-docks  —  was  dismissed  — 
took  a  long,  last,  lingering  look,  with  a  somewhat  moistened  eye,  at 
the  gallant  old  craft  which  so  well  had  done  her  part,  and  went  up 
by  the  Blackwall  railway  to  London. 


THE    DEALSE    IN    WISBDl. 


When  you  place  yourself  under  the  hands  of  a  barber,  he  usually 
chatters  politics :  in  the  East,  he  tells  you  a  story.  "VVliile  I  was 
having  my  head  shaved  in  Cairo,  the  operator  told  me  the  following 
tale: 

In  the  city  of  Cairo,  near  the  Bab  el  Fontonah,  once  dwelt  a 
man,  a  saddle-maker,  named  Radawan,  who  had  a  youno-  wife  and 
one  son.  He  was  of  a  timid  disposition,  and  was  much  respected  by 
his  neighbors.  The  great  delight  of  his  heart  was,  on  returninor 
from  his  shop  precisely  at  sunset,  to  find  his  house  set  in  order,  — a 
sleek  black  servant  lad  ready  to  open  the  door ;  a  fat  black  cooK 
giving  the  last  turn,  with  a  wooden  spoon,  to  the  stew ;  his  plump 
little  wife  half-way  down  the  staircase  to  meet  him  ;  and  his  chubby 
little  baby  gnawing  his  fi.sts  in  an  old  carved  cradle  in  one  corner  of 
the  leewan.  Then  did  Radawan  feel  that  he  was  a  little  prince ; 
that  he  had  his  dominions  and  his  subjects  more  obedient  than  those 
of  many  a  mighty  monarch ;  and  that  he  was  looked  up  to  with 
love,  not  unmixed  with  a  spice  of  awe ;  for,  like  many  timid  men, 
Radawan  liked  sometimes  to  fancy  himself  fierce  and  tyrannical. 

We  are  going  to  introduce  him  in  one  of  his  most  overbearinof 
moods.  He  entered,  one  evening,  the  little  courtyard  of  his  house, 
imitating,  as  far  as  his  placid  countenance  would  allow,  the  awful 
glance  which  he  had  observed  on  the  visage  of  the  head  of  the  police, 
as  he  rode  through  the  bazaars,'that  day,  preceded  by  criers,  offering 
mighty  rewards  for  the  disco\rery  of  certain  robbers  and  murderers 
who  had  lately  been  exercising  their  dreadful  trade  with  impunity. 
The  sleek  boy,  being  no  physiognomist,  received  him  with  familiar 
welcome ;  the  fat  cook  bawled  out  from  the  kitchen  door  that  the 
kababs  were  done  to  a  nicety.  But  his  assumed  sternness  did  not 
relax,  and  he  ascended  the  stairs  with  a  slow  and  stately  step.  As 
usual,  he  met  his  plump  little  wife  in  the  dark,  and  his  dignity  was 
half  disturbed  by  a  girlish  embrace.  Yet  he  only  slightly  swept  the 
ofifersd  cheek  with  hii  compressed  lips,  and,  continuing  to  ascend, 

(905) 


296  THE    DEALER    IN    WISDOM. 

entered  the  saloon,  pretending  not  to  glance  at  the  cradle,  sitting 
down,  in  a  rigid  attitude,  in  his  accustomed  corner  of  the  divan. 

Ayesha  did  not  care  a  fig  for  these  grand  airs ;  and  busied  her- 
self in  preparing  the  supper,  without  so  much  as  asking  her  lord 
what  ailed  him.  Radawan  began  to  feel  uneasy ;  he  perpetually 
shifted  his  position,  called  for  a  pipe  in  a  tone  intended  to  be  author- 
itative, and  looked  very  hard  at  the  little  clenched  hands  which  he 
saw  fighting  with  the  air  close  by.  Still,  he  had  determined  to  play 
the  tyrant  that  evening ;  and,  in  trying  to  look  awful,  twisted  his 
meek  face  into  so  many  grimaces,  that  Ayesha,  as  she  tripped  by, 
could  not  forbear  laughing. 

"  Why  laughest  thou,  woman  ?  "  said  Radawan,  succeeding,  at 
length,  in  curving  his  brows  into  a  real  frown.  "  Where  is  the 
respect  due  to  my  beard  ? " 

"  Thy  beard,  0  master ! "  cried  the  impudent  little  woman,  twist- 
ing one  of  her  hands  in  that  sacred  appendage,  and  putting  the  other 
round  his  neck.  "  When  have  I  ever  wanted  in  respect  to  it  ? 
especially  since,  by  the  advice  of  thy  neighbor  Saad,  thou  hast  let  it 
grow  until  it  is  as  long  as  little  Ali  there." 

"  0  woman  !  "  replied  Radawan,  trying  to  repulse  her.  "  8006"  not 
at  the  advice  of  neighbor  Saad ;  but  listen  to  what  he  has  told  me 
to-day.  He  says  it  is  absurd  for  a  man  of  my  standing  to  be  con- 
tent with  one  wife,  and  has  ofiered  me  his  daughter  —  a  sweet  virgin, 
straight  as  a  wand,  with  eyes  like  gazelles,  a  nose  like  a  pillar  of 
silver,  a  mouth  like  a  rosebud but,  what  aileth  thee,  woman  ?  " 

Ayesha  started  back,  and  remained  standing  before  her  husband 
with  a  countenance  so  charged  with  anger,  a  form  so  trembling  with 
emotion,  that,  had  he  observed  it,  he  would  certainly  have  been 
frightened  out  of  his  wits.  It  was  some  time  before  Ayesha  could 
speak ;  but  at  length  she  said : 

"And  did  he  tell  thee  all  this  of  his  daughter?  Why,  I  have 
seen  her  at  the  bath  —  she  is  pale,  one-eyed,  flat-nosed,  big-mouthed, 
crooked,  and  thin  (here  she  glanced  at  her  own  somewhat  fully 
developed  form).  Never  mind,  however,  Radawan.  Marry  as 
many  wives  as  you  please ;  only  remember,  if  you  bring  them  home 
here,  I  will  kill  them  all,  then  kill  you,  then  kill  m^^elf,  and  then 
—  yes,  then  —  I  will  kill  baby !  " 

At  this  terrific  threat  Radawan  became  very  white,  murmured 
that  he  was  only  joking,  as,  indeed,  he  was,  in  a  way ;  and  soon 
afterwards  found  his  beard  in  the  hands  of  that  identical  little 
ofispring  whose  life  one  must  suppose  to  have  been  saved  by  a  prom- 
ised abstinence  from  polygamy.  Unfortunately  for  him,  his  skia 
was  remarkably  tender ;  and  the  afibctionate  tuga  to  whioh  he  was 


THE    DEALER    IN    WISDOM.  297 

subjected,  but  of  which,  under  the  circumstances,  he  dared  not  com- 
plain, brought  the  tears  into  his  eyes,  and  produced  a  variety  of 
facial  contortions,  which  the  baby  —  innocent  thing! — believed  to 
be  made  wholly  and  solely  for  its  especial  amusement.  Ayesha,  who 
understood  the  case  better,  and  had  not  quite  suppressed  her  indig- 
nation, smiled  maliciously  at  the  punishment  her  lord  was  under- 
going ;  and  fairly  danced  with  delight  when,  unable  any  longer  to 
endure  the  pain,  Radawan  roared  to  be  released. 

After  this  they  supped  comfortably :  Ayesha  pretending,  at  first, 
humbly  to  serve  the  great-souled  Radawan ;  but  at  length,  with  an 
audacity  not  common  among  Muslim  women,  she  sat  down  by  his 
side.  They  had  become  quite  merry,  when,  suddenly,  a  loud  shriek 
disturbed  them,  and  the  fat  cook  rushed  in.  "0  master!  0 
mistress !  "  she  cried ;  "  there  is  a  dead  man  —  a  murdered  man  — 
in  the  court."  For  some  time  the  husband  and  wife  could  neither 
speak  nor  move.  At  length,  however,  each  taking  a  light,  they  went 
forth  into  the  gallery ;  and,  looking  down,  beheld,  sure  enough,  the 
corpse  of  a  man,  with  a  large  wound  in  the  forehead,  lying  in  the 
very  centre  of  the  court.  At  the  same  moment  loud  knocks  were 
heard  without,  lights  flashed  in  through  the  windows,  and  numerous 
stern  voices  called  aloud  to  open. 

Radawan  lost  all  presence  of  mind,  and  thought  of  nothing  but 
flight ;  by  no  means  an  absurd  expedient ;  for  in  the  East,  the  fact 
of  a  dead  body  being  found  in  the  house  would  infallibly  condemn 
him,  especially  as  so  many  criminals  had  lately  escaped  with  impu- 
nity. Hurriedly  embracing  his  wife,  Radawan  rushed  up  to  the 
roof  of  lus  house,  expecting  to  be  able  to  pass  along  to  that  of  a 
neighbor,  and  through  that  to  make  his  way  to  the  street.  In  his 
hurry,  he  had  forgotten  that  he  had  himself  caused  a  lofty  strong 
paling  to  be  erected,  in  order  to  prevent  people  from  stealing  his 
fowls.  After  vainly  endeavoring  to  break  through  this,  he  returned, 
scarcely  knowing  what  he  did :  and,  happening  to  glance  over  the 
parapet,  saw  that  the  street  was  filled  with  soldiers,  and  that  the 
Head  of  the  Police  himself  was  there.  This  sight  gave  him  the 
courage  of  despair.  A  narrow  street  separated  him  from  a  house 
somewhat  less  lofty  than  his  own.  He  cleared  it  at  a  bound;  and, 
as  he  alighted  in  safety,  heard  the  crash  of  his  own  door;  it  was  at 
length  burst  in.  Fear  winged  him.  He  ran  along  the  roofs  like  a 
cat,  reached  a  ruin  through  which  he  scrambled  down  into  the 
street ;  and,  hastening  through  several  narrow  dark  lanes,  reached 
the  city  wall.  With  wonderful  energy  for  him,  he  untwisted  the 
linen  of  his  turban,  tied  it  fast  to  a  projecting  stone,  let  himself  half- 


298  THE    DEALER   IN    WISDOM. 

way  down,  then  dropped ;  felt  a  little  stunned ;  but,  recovering,  took 
to  his  heels,  and  found  himself  in  the  city  of  tombs. 

The  Arab  story-tellers  say,  perhaps  in  their  love  of  the  marvel- 
lous and  the  supernatural,  that  E-adawan  fell  asleep  in  one  of  the 
ruined  tombs,  and  was  found  by  the  genius  of  the  place,  an  ugly 
whimsical  monster,  by  whom  he  was  transported  in  a  second  to  the 
gates  of  Damascus.  Perhaps  it  was  so ;  perhaps  Radawan  joined  a 
caravan  he  observed  next  morning  starting  for  Syria ;  any  how,  at 
the  chief  city  of  Syria  he  arrived,  without  encountering  any  partic- 
ular adventures. 

It  happened  that  the  saddler's  entire  stock  of  cash  consisted  of 
the  proceeds  of  his  day's  sales.  When  this  was  exhausted,  he  took, 
with  the  resignation  peculiar  to  the  East,  to  begging,  and  might  have 
remained  a  beggar  all  his  life,  had  he  not  one  day  entered  a  spacious 
mansion  situated  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city.  He  cried  out  as  he 
advanced,  "I  am  hungry,  0  Lord !  "  but  seeing  no  living  soul  to 
interrupt  him,  continued  to  penetrate  into  the  house.  At  length  he 
came  to  a  retired  apartment,  where  he  saw  an  old  man  absorbed  in 
meditation,  surrounded  with  ancient  books  and  strange  instruments. 
Two  or  three  times  Kadawan  repeated  his  cry,  each  time  in  a  louder 
key,  before  his  presence  was  noticed.  The  old  man  at  last  looked 
up  and  said  :  — 

"  My  son,  who  art  thou?  " 

Kadawan  explained  that  he  was  a  beggar,  and  had  found  the 
house  deserted. 

"  Thus  it  is,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Wlplst  I  meditate,  my  ser- 
vants, knowing  that  I  shall  not  watch  their  movements,  either  go 
forth  to  amuse  themselves  or  sleep." 

"  0  master !  "  quoth  Radawan,  boldly,  "  may  I  suggest  to  thee 
a  remedy  ?  " 

"  You  may." 

"  Appoint,  then,  a  wise,  prudent,  honest,  stern  man  to  be  the 
supervisor  of  thy  servants  —  one  who  uniteth  benevolence  with  fierce- 
ness of  disposition;  one  who  will  be  generous  to  reward,  but  s.viflb 
to  punish ;  and  by  the  terror  of  whose  looks  alone  obedience  may  be 
enforced." 

"  Where,  0  stranger,  may  I  find  such  a  treasure  ?  "  asked  the 
sage.  "^ 

"  Lo  !  "  cried  the  saddler  with  astonishing  courage,  "  such  a  man 
standeth  before  thee !  " 

The  old  man  laughed  much  at  those  words ;  for  Radawan  had 
grown  so  humble-looking  and  meek  in  adversity,  that  a  turtle-dove 


THE    DEALER   IN    WISDOM.  299 

would  scarcely  have  been  alarmed  at  his  aspect.  The  old  man 
replied : — 

♦'  Thou  art  a  strange  fellow.     Sit  down,  and  tell  rae  thy  story." 

Radawan  did  as  he  was  desired ;  and  the  host,  having  listened 
attentively,  said,  "  It  is  well.  I  will  appoint  thee  supervisor  of  my 
servants ;  but  I  pray  thee,"  he  continued,  smiling,  "  endeavor  to 
moderate  the  ferocity  of  thy  appearance ;  for  my  servants  have  been 
accustomed  to  gentle  treatment,  and  the  severity,  pride,  and  majesty 
of  thy  looks  might  too  much  appal  them." 

Riidawan  was  delighted  at  the  success  of  this  interview,  and 
promised  to  manifest  his  native  fierceness  as  little  as  possible.  Ho 
succeeded  so  well,  that  the  servants,  who  had  first  been  disgusted 
with  the  appointment,  soon  found  that  they  led  an  easier  life  than 
ever  ;  for  the  venerable  Abou  Kasim,  relying,  or  pretending  to  rely, 
on  the  vigilance  of  the  supervisor,  shut  himself  up  for  whole  weeks 
in  his  room  to  meditate  alone. 

A  year  passed.  What  with  presents  and  salary,  and  some  little 
speculations  he  had  made,  Radawan  found  himself  master  of  six 
thousand  pieces  of  gold.  He  now  began  to  think  of  his  plump  little 
wife,  and  his  chubby  little  baby,  and  longed  to  return,  even  at  the 
risk  of  his  life.  One  day,  therefore,  he  broke  the  subject  to  his 
master,  who  replied :  — 

"  My  son,  I  have  conceived  a  great  affection  for  thee,  although  I 
do  not  find  thy  ferocity  of  the  avail  that  I  anticipated.  I  would 
willingly  keep  thee  with  me ;  but  thy  reasons  for  returning  are 
strong,  and  I  do  not  think  thou  hast  now  much  to  fear." 

So  Radawan  determined  to  return  to  Cairo ;  but  before  he  went, 
he  desired  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  about  his  master ;  for  he  had  never 
been  able  to  learn  who  he  was,  or  whence  he  derived  his  wealth. 
With  an  assurance,  therefore,  derived  from  his  simplicity,  he  stated 
what  he  desired  to  know.  Abou  Kasim  was  not  offended,  but 
replied :  — 

"  I  cannot  relate  to  thee  my  story.  It  would  be  too  long.  I 
will  tell  thee,  however,  my  occupation ;  —  I  am  a  Dealer  in  Wis- 
dom." 

"  Is  wisdom  of  ready  sale  ?  "  inquired  Radawan,  a  little  puzzled. 

"  Not  very ;  and  therefore  I  am  obliged  to  sell  it  at  a  high  price. 
I  charge  a  thousand  pieces  of  gold  for  every  maxim," 

"  Master,"  replied  Radawan,  "  I  have  six  thousand  pieces  of  gold. 
Take  one  thousand  and  sell  me  a  maxim." 

Abou  Kasim  took  the  money,  and  answered  — 

"  Avoid  bye-roads  " 


300  THE   DEALER   IN    WISDOM. 

Then  the  fierce  supervisor  put  another  thousand  pieces  of  gold 
into  his  hand,  and  received  in  return  this  saying  — 

"  Ask  only  about  what  concerns  thee.'''' 

A  third  thousand  purchased  the  following  sentence  — 

"  Tldnk  before  acting y 

"  Now,"  said  Radawan,  "  I  have  invested  half  my  capital  in  wis- 
dom ;  the  rest  I  will  keep  for  my  necessities." 

At  parting,  Abou  Kasim,  instead  of  giving  him  a  handsome  pres- 
ent, as  he  expected,  put  into  his  hands  a  large  loaf  of  bread,  on  which 
he  told  him  to  make  his  first  supper,  on  arriving  at  his  home.  How- 
ever, Radawan  was  grateful  for  the  kindness  he  had  received,  kissed 
his  master's  hand  at  parting,  and  went  his  way  rejoicing  in  his  newly 
acquired  wisdom,  which  he  was  very  anxious  of  an  opportunity  for 
practising.  He  thought  it  best  to  journey  in  part  by  sea,  so  he 
embarked  at  Jafia,  and,  after  a  stormy  passage,  arrived  at  length  in 
the  city  of  x^lexandria. 

Having  rested  one  day,  he  resolved  to  start  immediately  for  Cairo, 
by  way  of  Rosetta  and  the  Nile,  then  the  regular  route.  Some 
travellers  advised  him  strongly  to  go  all  the  way  by  land ;  and  as 
they  showed  that  the  journey  could  be  thus  performed  more  rapidly 
than  by  water,  he  was  about  to  consent,  when  he  remembered  the 
first  maxim  he  had  bought — "Avoid  bye-roads."  So  he  refused 
the  proposition,  and,  carrying  out  his  original  plan,  reached  Cairo  in 
safety  one  evening  after  the  closing  of  the  gates.  On  turning  away 
to  seek  for  a  place  of  rest  for  the  night,  he  met  a  man  in  rags.  He 
soon  recognized  him  to  be  one  of  the  travellers  who  had  tried  to 
persuade  him  to  accompany  them ;  and  learned  that  the  overland 
party  had  been  attacked  by  robbers,  who  had  seized  everything  they 
had,  and  slain  all  except  this  one.  Radawan  silently  turned  his 
face  to  the  East,  and  uttered  a  short  thanksgiving,  saying,  "  I  thank 
thee,  0  Prophet,  (whose  name  be  exalted,)  for  the  wisdom  thou  hast 
sent  me  by  thy  servant,  Abou  Kasim." 

Then  the  two  went  their  several  w'ays,  seeking  for  a  place  in 
which  they  might  sleep.  The  traveller,  having  nothing  to  lose,  lay 
down  under  a  tree ;  but  Radawan,  who  had  not  left  his  money  in 
the  boat,  wandered  about  until  he  saw  a  mansion  standing  in  a  fair 
garden.  He  approached,  and  knocked  at  the  door,  which,  after  a 
little  time,  was  opened  by  a  tall  man  of  stern  aspect ;  who,  however, 
on  hearing  what  he  required,  bade  him  enter  and  make  himself  at 
home.  When  the  door  was  closed,  Radawan's  heart  misgave  him. 
He  feared  he  had  entered  a  robber's  den  ;  for  the  man  was  armed 
with  a  sword  and  pistols,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  any  other  person 
living  in  the  house.     However,  it  was  now  ioQ  late  to  retreat,  and  he 


THE   DEALER   IN    WISDOM.  301 

followed  his  host  into  a  large  apartment,  around  which  were  ranged, 
to  his  dismay,  a  long  row  of  grinning  human  heads.  A  momentary 
impulse  urged  him  to  inquire  what  they  meant;  but  the  sage's  sec- 
ond maxim  —  "Ask  only  about  what  concerns  thee" — checked 
him,  and  he  continued  in  the  steps  of  the  stern  man  until  he  came 
to  an  elegant  chamber,  where  a  supper  was  laid  out.  He  was  now 
invited  to  sit,  and  presently  there  appeared  to  attend  on  him  a  beau- 
tiful maiden,  who  was  blind ;  not  by  the  decrees  of  nature,  but  evi- 
dently by  the  violence  of  man.  Radawan  was  now  racked  by  intense 
curiosity ;  but  he  suppressed  all  outward  sign  of  it,  and  ate  and 
drank  with  his  host  as  if  nothing  remarkable  had  met  his  eyes. 
Thus  they  passed  an  hour,  after  which  Radawan  spent  the  night 
comfortably ;  and,  rising  early  next  morning,  prepared  to  depart. 

As  he  was  about  to  go,  the  master  of  the  house  called  him  back 
and  said,  "  Verily  thou  art  a  wise  man ;  and  thy  wisdom  hath  saved 
thy  life.  Know  that  all  those  heads  which  thou  hast  seen  are  the 
heads  of  impertinent  questioners,  whom  I  received  hospitably,  and 
who  could  not  control  their  curiosity  respecting  the  maiden  with  her 
eyes  put  out.  Thou  shalt  know  all  because  thou  hast  been  silent.  That 
maiden  is  my  sister.  I  saw  thee  look  with  pity  on  her  ;  but  if  thou 
knewest  her  horrible  wickedness,  thou  wouldst  loathe  her  and  pity 
me."  —  Here  the  barber  grew  again  tedious,  in  telling  the  story  of 
the  blind  maiden.  It  is  too  revolting  for  repetition.  At  its  con- 
clusion, the  mysterious  brother  said :  "Go  now,  Radawan  ;  and  it 
will  be  some  comfort  for  thee  to  know  without  asking  that  which 
thou  shouldst  have  known  if  thou  hadst  asked,  because,  in  this  latter 
case,  after  I  had  told  my  story,  I  would  have  slain  thee  without 
hesitation." 

Radawan  accordingly  went  forth  rejoicing  from  that  house ;  and, 
turning  to  the  East,  he  again  blessed  the  Prophet,  saying,  "  I  thank 
thee,  0  Prophet,  (whose  name  be  exalted,)  for  the  wisdom  thou  hast 
sent  me  by  thy  servant,  x\bou  Kasim." 

He  then  hastened  to  the  city  gates.  They  had  long  been  open, 
and  a  busy  crowd  were  pouring  in  and  out.  His  first  thought  was 
to  proceed  at  once  to  his  own  house  ;  but  he  reflected  that  possibly 
great  changes  had  taken  place  —  it  might  even  be  that  Ayesha  had 
forgotten  him,  or,  supposing  him  dead,  had  taken  another  husband. 
So  he  first  went  to  the  shop  of  a  barber  in  the  neighborhood,  and, 
being  much  changed  by  travel,  was  not  recognized.  Here  he  man- 
aged to  draw  the  conversation,  by  degrees,  to  the  subject  that  so 
much  interested  him,  and  learned,  to  his  great  surprise,  that  his 
absence  had  been  unnecessary.  The  dead  man  that  had  frightened 
him  away  was  one  of  a  band  of  robbers,  who  had  been  surprised  by 


802  THE   DEALER   IN    WISDOM. 


the  guard,  wounded  and  chased.  Finding  that  he  could  not  out- 
strip his  pursuers,  he  had  been  seen  to  turn  into  the  first  open  door 
that  appeared ;  and  was  supposed  to  have  drawn  the  bolts,  and  then 
gone  to  lie  down  and  die  in  the  court. 

"  However,"  added  the  barber,  maliciously,  "  the  young  wife  of 
the  runaway  was  probably  delighted  with  the  accident.  Radawan 
was  a  pompous  little  fool,  and  must  have  teased  her  prodigiously. 
I  am  told  she  has  several  admirers." 

The  barber  would  no  doubt  have  said  a  great  deal  more  ;  but 
Radawan,  keeping  his  lips  very  close  together,  got  up  and  walked 
away.  He  next  went  into  a  coffee-house,  where  the  master  told 
him  that  Ayesha  was  regularly  visited  by  a  lover ;  that  the  death 
of  Radawan  had  been  reported,  and  that  a  marriage  would  shortly 
take  place.  The  poor  husband,  all  the  while  burning  with  love  for 
his  plump  little  wife,  was  sorely  perplexed  by  the  idle  stories,  and 
many  others  much  worse;  and  seriously  reflected  whether  it  was 
just  in  him  to  come  to  life  again  in  that  sudden  manner.  Having 
meditated  alone  for  an  hour  or  so,  he  resolved  to  disguise  himself  as 
a  beggar,  and  thus  penetrate  into  his  own  house.  It  was,  perhaps, 
inconsistent  with  his  milder  reflection,  that  he  concealed  a  sword 
under  his  rags ;  but  he  determined  not  to  use  it,  unless  something 
very  abominable  met  his  eye.  In  dilapidated  garments  he  reached 
the  house,  and  managed  to  slip  into  the  court,  and  up  stairs  into  the 
gallery,  without  being  observed.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  voice  from  a 
dark  room,  saying,  in  a  tender  tone,  "  Wilt  thou  come  back  soon  ? " 
The  only  answer  seemed  to  be  a  shower  of  kisses.  The  world  became 
black  before  Kadawan's  face.  He  laid  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his 
Bword,  and,  really  ferocious  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  prepared 
to  rush  in,  and  inflict  summary  vengeance.  He  had  taken  the 
first  step,  when  the  third  maxim  came  to  his  aid,  "  Think,  before 
acting !  "  and  he  restrained  himself.  Advancing  cautiously,  he 
raised  the  corner  of  a  curtain  that  covered  the  entrance  of  the  room, 
and  looked  in.  At  first  he  could  see  nothing ;  but  his  eyes  becom- 
ing accustomed  to  the  obscurity,  he  soon  distinguished  his  wife,  a 
little  less  plump  and  a  little  paler  than  of  old,  sitting  with  her  baby, 
now  a'stout,  sturdy  fellow,  on  her  lap,  by  the  side  of  a  black  scaf- 
folding which  he  knew  represented  his  tomb.  He  rushed  in,  revealed 
himself  to  his  plump  little  Ayesha,  and  a  medley  of  embracing, 
dancing,  laughing,  crying,  ensued,  which  it  would  be  ridiculous  to 
attempt  to  describe.  Ayesha  held  on  by  his  shawl,  that  he  might 
kiss  the  chuckling  boy  for  the  fiftieth  time.  It  was  a  scene  of 
intense  joy.     After  the  perpetration  of  a  thousand  absurdities,  they 


THE   KEY   OP    THE   STREET.  303 

were  about  to  sit  down  to  sup  together,  when  Radawan  turned  his 
face  to  the  East,  and  said, 

"  I  thank  thee,  0  prophet,  (whose  name  be  exalted)  for  the  wis- 
dom thou  hast  sent  me  by  thy  servant,  Abou  Kasim." 

More  kisses,  more  hugging  of  the  boy  ;  and  they  sat  down  to  sup. 
Radawan  broke  the  loaf  given  by  Abou  Kasim,  and,  lo !  precious 
stones  of  immense  value  fell  from  it. 


Til   KEY   OF   TIE-  STHEET. 

It  is  commonly  asserted,  and  as  commonly  believed,  that  there 
are  seventy  thousand  persons  in  London  who  get  up  every  morning 
without  the  slightest  knowledge  as  to  where  they  shall  lay  their 
heads  at  night.  However  the  number  may  be  over  or  under-stated, 
it  is  very  certain  that  a  vast  quantity  of  people  are  daily  in  the 
above-mentioned  uncertainty  regarding  sleeping  accommodation,  and 
that  when  night  approaches,  a  great  majority  solve  the  problem  in 
a  somewhat  (to  themselves)  disagreeable  manner,  by  not  going  to 
bed  at  all. 

People  who  stop  up,  or  out  all  night,  may  be  divided  into  three 
classes :  —  First,  editors,  bakers,  market-gardeners,  and  all  those 
who  are  kept  out  of  their  beds  by  business.  Secondly,  gentlemen  and 
"  gents,"  anxious  to  cultivate  a  knowledge  of  the  "  lark  "  species,  or 
intent  on  the  navigation  of  the  "  spree."  Thirdly,  and  lastly,  those 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  do  not  go  to  bed,  for  the  very  simple 
reason  that  they  have  no  beds  to  go  to. 

The  members  of  this  last  class  —  a  very  numerous  one  —  are 
said,  facetiously,  to  possess  "  the  key  of  the  street."  And  a  remark- 
ably disagreeable  key  it  is.  It  will  unlock  for  you  all  manner  of 
caskets  you  would  fain  know  nothing  about.  It  is  the  "  open 
sesame  "  to  dens  you  never  saw  before,  and  would  much  rather 
never  see  again, — a  key  to  knowledge  which  woi^  surely  make 
the  learner  a  sadder  man,  if  it  make  him  not  a  wiser  one. 

Come  with  me,  luxuriant  tenant  of  heavy-draped  four-poster  — 
basker  on  feather  bed,  and  nestler  in  lawn  sheets.  Come  with  me, 
comfortable  civic  bolster-presser,  snug  woollen  nightcap  wearer.  Come 
with  me,  even  workman,  laborer,  peasant — sleeper  on  narrow  pallet — 


304  THE    KEY   OF   THE   STEEET. 

thougli  your  mattress  be  hard,  and  your  rug  coarse.  Leave  your 
bed  —  bad  as  it  may  be  —  and  gaze  on  those  who  have  no  beds  at 
all.  Follow  with  me  the  veins  and  arteries  of  this  huge  giant 
that  lies  a-sleeping.  Listen  while  with  "  the  key  of  the  street  "  I 
unlock  the  stony  coflfer,  and  bring  forth  the  book,  and  from  the 
macadamized  page  read  forth  the  lore  of  midnight  London  life. 

I  have  no  bed  to-night.  Why,  it  matters  not.  Perhaps  I  have 
lost  my  latch-key,  —  perhaps  I  never  had  one ;  yet  am  fearful  of 
knocking  up  my  landlady  after  midnight.     Perhaps  I  have  a  caprice 

—  a  fancy  —  for  stopping  up  all  night.  At  all  events,  I  have  no 
bed ;  and,  saving  ninepence,  (sixpence  in  silver  and  threepence  in 
coppers,)  no  money.  I  must  walk  the  streets  all  night;  for  I  can- 
not, look  you,  get  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  bed  for  less  than  a 
shilling.  Coffee-houses,  into  which  —  seduced  by  their  cheap  ap- 
pearance—  I  have  entered,  and  where  I  have  humbly  sought  a 
lodging,  laugh  my  ninepence  to  scorn.  They  demand  impossible 
eighteen-pences  —  unattainable  shillings.  There  is  clearly  no  bed 
for  me. 

It  is  midnight  —  so  the  clanging  tongue  of  St.  Dunstan  tells  me 

—  as  I  stand  thus,  bedless,  at  Temple  Bar.  I  have  walked  a  good 
deal  during  the  day,  and  have  an  uncomfortable  sensation  in  my 
feet,  suggesting  the  idea  that  the  soles  of  my  boots  are  made  of 
roasted  brick-bats.  I  am  thirsty,  too,  (it  is  July,  and  sultry,)  and, 
just  as  the  last  chime  of  St.  Dunstan's  is  heard,  I  have  half-a-pint 
of  porter  —  and  a  ninth  part  of  my  ninepence  is  gone  from  me  for- 
ever. The  puSlic  house  where  I  have  it  (or  rather  the  beer-shop, 
for  it  is  an  establishment  of  the  "  glass  of  ale  and  sandwich " 
description)  is  an  early-closing  one ;  and  the  proprietor,  as  he  serves 
me,  yawningly  orders  the  pot-boy  to  put  up  the  shutters,  for  he  ia 
"off  to  bed."  Happy  proprietor!  There  is  a  bristly-bearded 
tailor,  too,  very  beery,  having  his  last  pint,  who  utters  a  similar 
somniferous  intention.  He  calls  it  "  Bedfordshire."  Thrice  happy 
tailor ! 

I  envy  him  fiercely  as  he  goes  out,  though,  God  wot,  his  bed- 
chamber may  be  but  a  squalid  attic,  and  his  bed  a  tattered  hop-sack, 
with  a  slop  great-coat  —  from  the  emporium  of  Messrs.  Melchisidech 
and  Son,  and  which  he  has  been  working  at  all  day  —  for  a  cover- 
lid. I  envy  his  children,  (I  am  sure  he  has  a  frouzy,  ragged  brood 
of  them,)  for  tmj  have  at  least  somewhere  to  sleep;  I  haven't. 

I  watch,  with  a  species  of  lazy  curiosity,  the  whole  process  of 
closing  the  "  Original  Burton  Ale  House,"  from  the  sudden  shooting 
up  of  the  shutters,  through  the  area  grating,  like  gigantic  Jacks-in- 
a-box,  to  the  final  adjustment  of  screws  and  iron  nuts.     Then  I  bend 


TUE    KEY    OF    Tlllir  STREET.  305 

my  steps  westward,  and  at  the  corner  of  Wellington  street  stop  to 
contemplate  a  cab-stand. 

Cudgel  thyself,  weary  brain,  —  exhaust  thyself,  invention,  —  tor- 
ture thyself,  ingenuity,  —  all,  and  in  vain,  for  the  miserable  acqui- 
sition of  six  feet  of  mattress  and  a  blanket ! 

Had  I  the  delightful  impudence,  now  —  the  calm  audacity  —  of 
my  friend.  Bolt,  I  should  not  be  five  minutes  without  a  bed.  Bolt, 
I  verily  believe,  would  not  have  the  slightest  hesitation  in  walking 
into  the  grandest  hotel  in  Albermarle  street  or  Jermyn  street,  asking 
for  supper  and  a  bootjack,  having  his  bed  warmed,  and  would  trust  to 
Providence  and  his  happy  knack  of  falling,  like  a  cat,  on  all-fours, 
for  deliverance  in  the  mornino;.  I  could  as  soon  imitate  Bolt  as  I 
could  dance  on  the  tight-rope.  Spunge,  again,  that  stern  Jeremy 
Diddler,  who  always  bullies  you  when  you  relieve  him,  and  whose 
request  for  the  loan  of  half-a-crown  is  more  like  a  threat  than  a 
petition  —  Spunge,  I  say,  would  make  a  violent  irruption  into  a 
friend's  room,  and,  if  he  did  not  turn  him  out  of  his  bed,  would  at 
least  take  possession  of  his  sofa  and  his  great-coats  for  the  night,  and 
impetuously  demand  breakfast  in  the  morning.  If  I  were  only 
Spunge,  now ! 

What  am  I  to  do?  It's  just  a  quarter  past  twelve  ;  how  am  I 
to  walk  about  till  noon  to-morrow  ?  Suppose  I  walk  three  miles  an 
hour,  am  I  to  walk  thirty-five  miles  in  these  fearful  London  streets  ? 
Suppose  it  rains,  can  I  stand  under  an  archway  for  twelve  hours  ? 

I  have  heard  of  the  dark  arches  of  the  Adelphi,  and  of  houseless 
vagrants  crouching  there  by  night.  But,  then,  I  have  read  in 
"  Household  Words  "  that  police  constables  are  nightly  enjoined  by 
their  inspectors  to  rout  out  these  vagi'ants,  and  drive  them  from 
.their  squalid  refuge.  Then  there  are  the  dry  arches  of  Waterloo 
Bridge,  and  the  railway  arches  ;  but  I  abandon  the  idea  of  seeking 
refuge  there,  for  I  am  naturally  timorous,  and  I  can't  help  thinking 
of  chloroform  and  life-preservers  in  connection  with  them.  Though 
I  have  little  to  be  robbed  of,  Heaven  knows. 

I  have  heard,  too,  of  tramps'  lodging-houses,  and  of  the  "  two 
penny  rope."     I  am  not  prepared   to  state  that  I  would  not  avail 
myself  of  that  species  of  accommodation,  for  I  am  getting  terribly 
tired  and  foot-sore.     But  I  don't  know  where  to  seek  for  it,  and  I 
am  ashamed  to  ask. 

I  would  give  something  to  lie  down,  too.  I  wonder  whether  that 
cabman  would  think  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  accept  a  pot  of  porter, 
and  allow  me  to  repose  in  his  vehicle  till  he  got  a  fare  ?  I  know 
Borae  of  them  never  get  one  during  the  night,  and  I  could  snoozo 
comfortably  in  hackney-carriage  two  thousand  and  twenty-two.  But 
20 


306  THE    KEY    or    THE    sTUliLET, 

I  cannot  form  a  favorable  opinion  of  the  driver,  who  is  discussing 
beer  and  blasphemy  with  the  waterman ;  and  neither  he  nor  any  of 
his  brother  Jehus,  indeed,  seem  at  all  the  persons  to  ask  a  favor  of. 

It  is  Opera  night,  as  I  learn  from  the  accidentally-heard  remark 
of  a  passing  policeman.  To  watch  the  departing  equipages  will, 
surely,  help  to  pass  the  time  on  bravely,  and  with  something  almost 
like  hope,  I  stroll  to  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 

I  am  in  the  thick  of  it  at  once.  Such  a  scrambling,  pushing, 
jostling,  and  shouting  !  Such  pawing  of  spirited  horses,  and  objur- 
gations of  excited  policemen  !  Now,  Mrs.  Fitzsomebody's  carriage 
stops  the  way ;  and  now,  Mr.  Smith  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  with 
two  ladies  on  each  arm,  stands  bewildered  in  a  chaos  of  carriages, 
helplessly  ejaculating  "  cab."  Now  is  there  a  playful  episode  in  the 
shape  of  a  policeman  dodging  a  pickpocket  among  horses'  heads,  and 
under  wheels ;  and  now  a  pitiable  one,  in  the  person  of  an  elderly 
maiden  lady,  who  has  lost  her  party  in  the  crush,  and  her  shoe  in 
the  mud,  and  is  hopping  about  the  piazza  like  an  agonized  sparrow. 

It  is  all  over  soon,  however.  The  carriages  rattle,  and  the  cabs 
lumber  away.  The  great  city  people,  lords  of  Lombard-street,  and 
kaisers  of  Cornhill,  depart  in  gorgeous  chariots,  emblazoned  in  front 
and  at  the  back.  The  dukes  and  marquises,  and  people  of  that  sort, 
glide  away  in  tiny  broughams,  and  infinitesimal  clarences.  The 
highest  personage  of  the  land  drives  oflf  in  a  plain  chariot,  with  two 
servants  in  plain  black,  more  like  a  doctor  (as  I  hear  a  gentleman 
from  the  country  near  me  indignantly  exclaim)  than  a  Queen.  Mr. 
Smith  has  found  his  party,  and  the  sparrow-like  lady  her  shoe,  by 
this  time.  Nearly  everybody  is  gone.  Stay,  the  gentleman  who 
thinks  it  a  "  genteel  "  thing  to  go  to  the  Opera,  appears  on  the  thresh- 
old carefully  adjusting  his  white  neckcloth  with  the  huge  bow,  and 
donning  a  garment  something  between  a  smockfrock  and  a  horse- 
cloth, which  is  called,  I  believe,  the  "  Opera  envelope."  He  will 
walk  home  to  Camberwell  with  his  lorgnette  case  in  his  hand,  and 
in  white  kid  gloves,  to  let  everybody  know  where  he  has  been.  The 
policemen  and  the  prostitutes  will  be  edified  no  doubt.  Following 
him  comes  the  habitue,  who  is  a  lover  of  music,  I  am  sure.  He 
puts  his  gloves,  neatly  folded,  into  his  breast-pocket,  stows  away  his 
opera-glass,  and  buttons  his  coat.  Then  he  goes  quietly  over  to  the 
Albion,  where  I  watch  him  gravely  disposing  of  a  pint  of  porter  at 
the  bar.  He  is  ten  to  one  a  gentleman  :  and  I  am  sure  he  is  a  sen- 
sible man.  And  now  all,  horse  and  foot,  are  departed ;  the  heavy 
portals  are  closed,  and  the  Eoyal  Italian  Opera  is  left  to  the  fire- 
man, to  darkness,  and  to  me. 

The  bed  question  has  enjoyed  a  temporary  respite  while  tliesa 


THE    KEY    OF    TILE    STREET.  307 


proceedings  are  taking  place.  Its  discussion  is  postponed  still  fur- 
ther by  the  amusement  and  instruction  I  derive  from  watching  the 
performances  in  the  ham  and  beef  shop  at  the  corner  of  Bow  street. 
Here  are  crowds  of  customers,  hot  and  hungry  from  the  Lyceum  or 
Drury  Lane,  and  clamorous  for  sandwiches.  Ham  sandwiches,  beef 
sandwiches,  German  sausage  sandwiches  —  legions  of  sandwi(3tes  are 
cut  and  consumed.  The  cry  is  "  mustard,"  and  anon  the  coppers 
rattle,  and  payment  is  tendered  and  change  given.  Then  come  the 
people  who  carry  home  half  a  pound  of  "  cold  round "  or  three 
pennyworth  of  "  brisket;"  I  scrutinized  them,  their  purchases,  and 
their  money.  I  watch  the  scale  with  rapt  attention,  and  wait  with 
trembling  eagerness  the  terrific  combat  between  that  last  piece  of 
fat  and  the  half  ounce  weight.  The  half  ounce  has  it ;  and  the 
beef  merchant  gives  the  meat  a  satisfied  slap  with  the  back  of  his 
knife,  and  rattles  the  price  triumphantly.  I  have  been  so  intent 
on  all  this,  that  I  have  taken  no  heed  of  time  as  yet ;  so,  when  cus- 
tom begins  to  flag,  glancing  at  the  clock,  I  am  agreeably  surprised 
to  find  it  is  ten  minutes  past  one. 

A  weary  waste  of  hours  yet  to  traverse  —  the  silence  of  the  night 
season  yet  to  endure.  There  are  many  abroad  still ;  but  the  repu- 
table wayfarers  drop  off  gradually,  and  the  disreputable  ones  increase 
with  alarming  rapidity.  The  great-coated  policeman,  the  shivering 
Irish  night  prowlers,  and  some  fleeting  shadows  that  seem  to  be  of 
woman,  have  taken  undisputed  possession  of  Bow  street  and  Long- 
acre  ;  and  but  for  a  sprinkling  of  young  thieves,  and  a  few  tipsy 
bricklayers,  would  have  it  all  their  own  way  in  Drury  Lane. 

I  have  wandered  into  this  last-named  unsavory  thoroughfare,  and 
stand  disconsolately  surveying  its  aspect.  And  it  strikes  me  now, 
that  it  is  eminently  distinguished  for  its  street-corners.  There  is 
scarcely  a  soul  to  be  seen  in  the  street  itself,  but  all  the  corners 
have  posts,  and  nearly  all  the  posts  are  garnished  with  leaning 
figures  —  now  two  stalwart  policemen  holding  municipal  converse  — 
now  two  women,  God  help  them !  —  now  a  knot  of  lads  with  pale 
faces,  long  greasy  hair,  and  short  pipes.  Thieves,  my  friend  — 
unmistakable  thieves. 

There  are  no  professional  beggars  about  —  what  on  earth  is  there 
for  them  to  be  out  for  ?  The  beggees  are  gone  home  to  their  sup- 
pers and  their  beds,  and  the  beggars  are  gone  home  to  their  suppers 
and  their  beds.     They  have  all  got  beds,  bless  you ! 

Some  of  the  doorways  have  heaps  of  something  huddled  up  within 
them  ;  and  ever  and  anon  a  policeman  will  come  and  stir  them  up 
with  his  truncheon,  or  more  probably  with  his  boot.  Then  you  will 
see  a  chaotic  movement  of  legs  and  arms,  and  hear  a  fretful  croon* 


308  Ti?k    KEr    OF    TllK   8TREET. 


ing  with  an  Irish  accent.  Should  the  guardian  of  the  night  insist 
in  the  enforcement  of  his  "move  on  "  decree —  the  legs  and  anna 
will  stagger  a  few  paces  onward,  and,  as  soon  as  the  policeman's  back 
is  turned,  sink  into  another  doorway  —  to  be  routed  out  perchance 
again  in  another  quarter  of  an  hour  by  another  truncheon  or  another 
boot. 

Half-past  one  by  the  clock  of  St.  Mary-le-Strand,  and  I  am  in 
Charles  Street,  Drury  Lane.  It  is  a  very  nasty,  dirty  little  street 
this  —  full  worthy,  I  take  it,  to  challenge  competition  with  Church 
Lane  or  Buckeridge  Street.  Something,  however,  a  feeling  indefin- 
able, but  strong,  prompts  me  to  pursue  its  foul  and  devious  course 
for  some  score  of  yards.     Then  I  stop. 

"  Lodgings  for  single  men  at  fourpence  per  night."  This  agree- 
able distich  greets  me,  depictured  on  the  panes  of  a  window,  behind 
which  a  light  is  burning.  I  step  into  the  road  to  have  a  good  look 
at  the  establishment  that  proflers  the  invitation.  It  is  a  villanous 
ramshackle  house  —  a  horrible  cut-throat-looking  den,  to  be  sure : 
—  but  then  the  fourpence  !  Think  of  that.  Master  Brooke  !  There 
is  a  profusion  of  handbills  plastered  on  the  door-jams,  which  I  can 
read  by  the  light  of  a  gas-lamp  a  few  paces  off.  I  decipher  a  flat- 
tering legend  of  separate  beds,  every  convenience  for  cooking,  and 
hot-water  always  ready.  I  am  informed  that  this  is  the  real  model 
lodging-house ;  and  I  read,  moreover,  some  derisive  couplets  relative 
to  the  Great  Spitalfields  Lodging-house,  which  is  styled  a  "  Bastile." 
I  begin  fingering,  involuntarily,  the  eight-pence  in  my  pocket. 
Heaven  knows  what  horrible  company  I  may  fall  into ;  but  then, 
fourpence  !  and  my  feet  are  so  tired.  Jacta  est  alea,  I  will  have 
fourpenn'orth. 

That  portion  of  the  reading  public  who  were  on  duty  with  In- 
spector Field  some  weeks  ago,  know  what  the  "  deputy  "  of  a  tramps' 
lodging-house  is  like.  As,  however,  I  come  to  sleep,  and  not  to 
inspect,  I  am  not  abused,  but  merely  inspected  and  admitted.  I  am 
informed  that,  with  the  addition  my  company  will  make,  the  estab- 
lishment is  full.  I  pay  my  fourpence,  without  the  performance  of 
which  ceremony  I  do  not  get  beyond  the  filthy  entrance  passage. 
Then  the  "  deputy  "  bars  the  door,  and,  brandishing  an  iron  candle- 
stick as  though  it  were  a  broad-sword,  bids  me  follow  him. 

What  makes  me,  when  we  have  ascended  the  rotten  staircase, 
when  I  have  entered  my  bedchamber — when  the  "deputy  "has 
■  even  bid  me  a  wolfish  good-night  —  what  makes  me  rush  down 
stairs,  and,  bursting  through  the  passage,  beg  him  to  let  me  out 
for  Heaven's  sake  ?  What  makes  me,  when  the  "  deputy "  has 
unbarred  the  door,  and  bade  me  go  out,  and  be  something'^,  and  haa 


THE   KEY    OF   THE   STREET.  309 


not  given  me  back  my  fourpence,  stand  sick  and  stupefied  in  tha 
street,  till  I  wake  up  to  a  disgusted  consciousness,  by  being  nearly 
knocked  down  by  a  group  of  staggering  roysterers,  howling  out  a 
drunken  chorus  ? 

It  was  not  the  hang-dog  looking  of  the  "  deputy  "  or  the  cut- 
throat appearance  of  the  house.  It  was  not  even  the  aspect  of  the 
score  or  more  ragged  wretches  who  were  to  be  my  sleeping  compan- 
ions. It  was,  in  plain  English,  the  smell  of  the  bugs.  Ugh  !  —  the 
place  was  alive  with  them.  They  crawled  on  the  floor  —  they 
dropped  from  the  ceiling  —  they  ran  mad  races  on  the  walls.  Give 
me  the  key  of  the  street,  and  let  me  wander  forth  again. 

I  have  not  got  further  than  Broad  street,  St.  Giles',  however,  be- 
fore I  begin  to  think  that  I  have  been  a  little  hasty.  I  feel  so 
tired,  so  worn,  so  full  of  sleep  now,  that  I  can't  help  thinking  I 
might  have  fallen  off  into  heavy  sleep  yonder,  and  that  the  havoc 
committed  by  the  bugs  on  my  carcass  might  have  been  borne  unfelt. 
It  is  too  late  now,  however.  The  fourpence  has  departed,  and  I  dare 
not  face  the  deputy  again. 

Two  in  the  morning,  and  still  black,  thick,  impervious  night,  as  I 
turn  into  Oxford  street,  by  Meux's  Brewery.  The  flitting  shad- 
ows, that  seem  to  be  of  women,  have  grown  fewer.  A  quarter  past 
two,  and  I  have  gained  the  Regent  Circus,  and  can  take  my  choice, 
either  for  a  stroll  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Regent's  Park,  or  a 
quiet  lounge  in  the  district  of  the  clubs.  I  choose  the  latter  and 
shamble  down  Regent  street  towards  Piccadilly. 

I  feel  myself  slowly,  but  surely,  becoming  more  of  a  regular  night 
prowler  —  a  houseless,  hopeless  vagrant,  every  moment.  I  feel 
my  feet  shuffle,  my  shoulders  rise  towards  my  ears ;  my  head  goes 
on  one  side ;  I  hold  my  hands  in  a  crouching  position  before  me ;  I 
no  longer  walk,  I  prowl.  Though  it  is  July,  I  shiver.  As  I  stand 
at  the  corner  of  Conduit  street  (all  night  prowlers  affect  corners),  a 
passing  figure,  in  satin  and  black  lace,  flings  me  a  penny.  How 
does  the  phantom  know  that  I  have  got  the  key  of  the  street  ?  I 
am  not  in  rags,  and  yet  my  plight  must  be  evident.  So  I  take  the 
penny. 

Where  are  the  policemen,  I  wonder.  I  am  walking  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  road,  yet,  from  end  to  end  of  the  magnificent  street,  I 
cannot  see  a  single  soul.  Stay,  here  is  one.  A  little  white-headed 
rufl5an  leaps  from  the  shadow  of  Archbishop  Tenison's  Chapel. 
He  has  on  a  ragged  pair  of  trousers,  and  nothing  else  to  speak  of. 
He  vehemently  demands  to  be  allowed  to  turn  head  over  heels  three 
times  for  a  penny.  I  give  him  the  penny  the  phantom  gave  me 
(cheap  charity),  and  intimate  that  I  can  dispense  with  the  tumbling. 


310  THE    KEY   OF   THE   STREET. 

But  he  is  too  honest  for  that,  and,  putting  the  penny  in  his  mouth, 
disappears  in  a  series  of  summersaults.  Then  the  gas-lamps  and  I 
have  it  all  to  ourselves. 

Safe  at  the  corners  (corners  again,  you  see)  of  what  was  once  the 
Quadrant,  where  a  mongrel  dog  joins  company.  I  know  he  is  a  dog 
without  a  bed,  like  I  am,  for  he  has  not  that  grave  trot,  so  full  of 
purpose,  which  the  dog  on  business  has.  This  dog  wanders  irreso- 
lutely, and  makes  feigned  turnings  up  by-streets  —  returning  to  the 
main  thorouo-hfare  in  a  slouchina:  skulkinor  manner  —  he  ruminates 
over  cigar-stumps  and  cabbage-stalks,  which  no  homeward-bound  dog 
would  do.  But  even  that  dog  is  happier  than  I  am,  for  he  can  lie 
down  on  any  doorstep,  and  take  his  rest,  and  no  policeman  shall  say 
him  nay ;  but  the  New  Police  Act  won't  let  me  do  so,  and  says 
sternly  that  I  must  "  move  on." 

Halloo  !  a  rattle  in  the  distance  —  nearer  —  nearer  —  louder  and 
louder !  Now  it  bursts  upon  my  sight.  A  fire-engine  at  full  speed ; 
and  the  street  is  crowded  in  a  moment ! 

Where  the  people  came  from  /  don't  pretend  to  say  —  but  there 
they  are  —  hundreds  of  them,  all  wakeful  and  noisy,  and  clamorous. 
On  goes  the  engine  with  people  hallooing,  and  following,  and  min- 
gling with  the  night  wind  the  dreadful  cry  of  Fire. 

I  follow  of  course.  An  engine  at  top  speed  is  as  potent  a  spell  to 
a  night  prowler,  as  a  pack  of  hounds  in  full  cry  is  to  a  Leicestershire 
yeoman.  Its  influence  is  contagious  too,  and  the  crowd  swells  at 
every  yard  of  distance  traversed.  The  fire  is  in.  a  narrow  street  oflf 
Soho,  at  a  pickle-shop.  It  is  a  fierce  one,  at  which  I  think  the 
crowd  is  pleased ;  but  then  nobody  lives  in  the  house,  at  which  I 
imagine  they  are  slightly  chagrined ;  for  excitement,  you  see,  at  a 
fire,  is  everything.  En  revanche  there  are  no  less  than  three  fami- 
lies of  small  children  next  door,  and  the  crowd  are  hugely  delighted 
when  they  are  expeditiously  brought  out  in  their  night-dresses,  by 
the  fire-brigade. 

More  excitement !  The  house  on  the  other  side  has  caught  fire. 
The  mob  are  in  ecstasies,  and  the  pickpockets  make  a  simultaneous 
onslaught  on  all  the  likely  pockets  near  them.  I  am  not  pleased, 
but  interested  —  highly  interested.  I  would  pump,  but  I  am  not 
strong  in  the  arms.     Those  who  pump,  I  observe,  get  beer. 

I  have  been  watching  the  blazing  pile  so  long  —  basking,  as  it 
were,  in  the  noise  and  shouting  and  confusion ;  the  hoarse  clank  of 
the  engines  —  the  cheering  of  the  crowd  —  the  dull  roar  of  the  fire, 
that  the  bed  question  has  been  quite  in  abeyance,  and  I  have  forgot- 
ten all  about  it  and  the  time.  But  when  the  fire  is  quenched,  or  at 
least  brought  under,  as  it  is  at  last ;  when  the  sheets  of  flame  and 


THE    KEY   OP    THE    STREET.  311 

sparks  are  succeeded  by  columns  of  smoke  and  steam ;  -when,  as  a 
natural  consequence,  the  excitement  begins  to  flag  a  little,  and  the 
pressure  of  the  crowd  diminishes ;  then,  turning  away  from  tho 
charred  and  gutted  pickle-shop,  I  hear  the  clock  of  St.  Anne's,  So- 
ho,  strike  four,  and  find  that  it  is  broad  daylight. 

Four  dreary  hours  yet  to  wander  before  a  London  day  commences ; 
four  weary,  dismal  revolutions  on  the  clock-face,  before  the  milk-man 
makes  his  rounds,  and  I  can  obtain  access  to  my  penates,  with  the 
matutinal  supply  of  milk  ! 

To  add  to  my  discomfort,  the  utter  heart- weariness  and  list- 
less misery  which  is  slowly  creeping  over  me,  it  begins  to  rain.  Not 
a  sharp  pelting  shower,  but  a  slow,  monotonous,  ill-conditioned  driz- 
zle ;  damping  without  wetting  —  now  deluding  you  into  the  idea 
that  it  is  going  to  hold  up,  and  now,  with  a  sudden  spirt  in  your  face, 
mockingly  informing  you  that  it  has  no  intention  of  the  kind.  Very 
wretchedly,  indeed,  I  thread  the  narrow  little  streets  about  Soho, 
meeting  no  one  but  a  tom  cat  returning  from  his  club,  and  a  misan- 
thropic looking  policeman,  who  is  feeling  shutter-bolts  and  tugging 
at  djor-handles  with  a  vicious  aspect,  as  though  he  were  disappointed 
that  some  unwary  householder  had  not  left  a  slight  temptation  for  a 
sharp  house-breaker. 

I  meet  another  policeman  in  Golden  square,  who  looks  dull ;  miss- 
ing, probably,  the  society  of  the  functionary  who  guards  the  fire- 
escape  situated  in  that  fashionable  locality,  and  who  has  n't  come 
back  from  the  burnt  pickle-shop  yet.  He  honors  me  "with  a  long 
Btare  as  I  pass  him. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  says. 

I  return  the  compliment. 

"  Going  home  to  bed  ? "  he  asks. 

"  Y-e-es,"  I  answer. 

He  turns  on  his  heel  and  says  no  more  ;  but,  bless  you !  i  can  see 
irony  in  his  bull's-eye  —  contemptuous  incredulity  in  his  oil-skin 
cape !  It  needs  not  the  long  low  whistle  in  which  he  indulges,  to 
tell  me  that  he  knows  very  well  I  have  no  bed  to  go  home  to. 

I  sneak  quietly  down  Sherrard  street  into  the  Quadrant.  I  don't 
know  why,  but  I  begin  to  be  afraid  of  policemen.  I  never  trans- 
gressed the  law  —  yet  I  avoid  the  "  force."  The  sound  of  their 
heavy  boot-heels  disquiets  me.  One  of  them  stands  at  the  door  of 
Messrs.  Swan  and  Edgar's,  and  to  avoid  him  I  actually  abandon  a 
resolution  I  had  formed  of  walking  up  Regent  street,  and  turn  down 
the  Haymarket  instead. 

There  are  three  choice  spirits  who  evidently  have  got  beds  to  go 
to  though  they  are  somewhat  tardy  in  seeking  them.     I  can  tell 


312  THE   KEY    OF   THE    STREET. 


that  thej  have  latch-keys,  by  their  determined  air  —  their  bold  and 
confident  speech.  The}  have  just  turned,  or  have  been  turned  out 
from  an  oyster-room.  They  are  all  three  very  drunk,  have  on  each 
other's  hats,  and  one  of  them  has  a  quantity  of  dressed  lobster  in 
his  cravat. 

These  promising  gentlemen  are  "  out  on  a  spree."  The  doora 
of  the  flash  public-houses  and  oyster-rooms  are  letting  out  similar 
detachments  of  choice  spirits  all  down  the  Haymarket ;  some  of  a 
most  patrician  sort,  with  most  fierce  moustachios  and  whiskers; 
whom  I  think  I  have  seen  before,  and  whom  I  may,  very  probably, 
Bee  again,  in  jack-boots  and  golden  epaulettes,  prancing  on  huge 
black  horses  by  the  side  of  Her  Majesty's  carriage,  going  to  open 
Parliament.  They  call  this  "  life."  They  will  probably  sleep  in 
the  Station-house  this  morning,  and  will  be  fined  various  sums  for 
riotous  conduct.  They  will  get  drunk,  I  dare  say,  three  hundred 
times  in  the  course  of  a  year,  for  about  three  years.  In  the  last- 
mentioned  space  of  time  they  will  bonnet  many  dozen  policemen, 
break  some  hundreds  of  gas-lamps,  have  some  hundreds  of  "  larks," 
and  scores  of  "  rows."  They  will  go  to  Epsom  by  the  rail,  and 
create  disturbances  on  the  course,  and  among  the  sticks.  They  will 
frequent  the  Adelphi  at  half-price,  and  haunt  night-houses  after- 
wards. They  will  spend  their  salaries  in  debauchery,  and  obtain 
fresh  supplies  of  money  from  bill-discounters,  and  be  swindled  out 
of  it  by  the  proprietors  of  betting-lists.  Some  day,  when  their 
health  and  their  money  are  gone  —  when  they  are  sued  on  all  their 
bills,  and  by  all  the  tradesmen  they  have  plundered  —  they  will  be 
discharged  from  their  situations,  or  be  discarded  by  their  friends. 
Then  they  will  subside  into  Whitecross  street  and  the  Insolvent 
Debtor's  Court  —  and  then,  God  knows,  they  will  die  miserably,  I 
suppose  :  of  delirium  tremens,  may  be. 

I  have  taken  a  fancy  to  have  a  stroll  —  "  save  the  mark !  "  — in 
St.  James'  Park,  and  am  about  to  descend  the  huge  flight  of  stone 
steps  leading  to  the  Mall,  when  I  encounter  a  martial  band,  consist- 
ing of  a  grenadier  in  a  great-coat,  and  holding  a  lighted  lantern  (it 
is  light  as  noon-day),  an  ofl&cer  in  a  cloak,  and  four  or  five  more 
grenadiers  in  great-coats,  looking  remarkably  ridiculous  in  those 
hideous  gray  garments.  As  to  the  officer,  he  appears  to  regard 
everything  with  an  air  of  unmitigated  disgust,  and  to  look  at  the 
duty  upon  which  he  is  engaged  as  a  special  bore.  I  regard  it  rather 
in  the  light  of  a  farce.  Yet,  if  I  mistake  not,  these  are  "  Grand 
Rounds,"  or  something  of  the  sort.  When  the  officer  gets  within  a 
few  yards  of  the  sentinel,  at  the  Duke  of  York's  Column,  he  shouts 
out  some  unintelligible  question,  to  which  the  bearer  of  "  Brown 


THE    KEY    OF    THE    STREET.  513 

Be^"  gives  a  responsive,  but  as  unintelligible  Tiowl.  Then  the  fore- 
most grenadier  plays  in  an  imbecile  manner  with  his  lantern,  like 
King  Lear  with  his  straw,  and  the  officer  flourishes  his  sword  ;  and 
*'  Grand  Rounds"  are  over,  as  far  as  the  Duke  of  York  is  concerned, 
I  suppose ;  for  the  whole  party  trot  gravely  down  Pall  Mull,  to- 
wards the  Duchess  of  Kent's. 

I  leave  them  to  their  devices,  and  saunter  moodily  into  the  Mall. 
It  is  but  a  quarter  to  five,  now  ;  and  I  am  so  jaded  and  tired  that 
I  can  scarcely  drag  one  foot  after  another.  The  rain  has  ceased  ; 
but  the  morning  air  is  raw  and  cold ;  and  the  rawness  clings,  as  it 
were,  to  the  marrow  of  my  bones.  M3'  hair  is  wet,  and  falls  in 
draggled  hanks  on  my  checks.  My  feet  seem  to  have  grown  pre- 
posterously large,  and  my  boots  as  preposterously  small.  I  wish  I 
was  a  dog  or  a  dormouse  !  I  long  for  a  haystack,  or  a  heap  of 
sacks,  or  anything.  I  even  think  I  could  find  repose  on  one  of  those 
terrible  inclined  planes  which  you  see  tilted  towards  you  through 
the  window  of  the  Morgue  at  Paris.  I.  have  a  good  mind  to  smash 
a  lamp,  and  be  taken  to  the  Station-house.  I  have  a  good  mind  to 
throw  myself  over  Westminster  bridge.  I  suppose  I  am  afraid; 
for  I  don't  do  either. 

Seeing  a  bench  under  a  tree,  I  fling  myself  thereon ;  and,  hard 
and  full  of  knots  and  bumps  as  it  is,  roll  myself  into  a  species  of 
ball,  and  strive  to  go  to  sleep.  But  oh,  vain  delusion !  I  am  hor- 
ribly, excruciatingly  wakeful !  To  make  the  matter  worse,  I  get  up, 
and  take  a  turn  or  two  —  then  I  feel  as  though  I  could  sleep  stand- 
ing ;  but  availing  myself  of  what  I  consider  a  favorably  drowsy  mo- 
ment, I  cast  myself  on  the  bench  again,  and  find  myself  as  wakeful 
as  before ! 

There  is  a  young  vagrant  —  a  tramp  of  some  eighteen  summers 
—  sitting  beside  me  —  fast  asleep,  and  snoring  with  provoking  per- 
tinacity. He  is  half  naked,  and  has  neither  shoes  nor  stockings. 
Yet  he  sleeps,  and  very  soundly  too,  to  all  appearance.  As  the 
loud-sounding  Horse-Guards  clock  strikes  five,  lae  wakes,  eyes  me 
for  a  moment,  and  muttering  "hard  lines,  mate,"  turns  to  sleep 
again.  In  the  mysterious  free-masonry  of  misery,  he  calls  me 
**  mate."  I  suppose,  eventually,  that  I  catch  from  him  some  portion 
of  his  vagrant  acquirement  of  somnolence  under  difficulties,  for,  after 
writhing  and  turning  on  the  comfortless  wooden  seat  till  every  bone 
and  muscle  are  sore,  I  fall  into  a  deep,  deep  sleep  —  so  deep  it  seems 
like  death. 

So  deep  that  I  don't  hear  the  quarters  striking  of  that  nuisance 
to  Park-sleepers,  the  Horse-Guards  clock  — and  rise  only,  suddenly 
en  iursaut,  as  six  o'clock  striken.     My  vagrant  friend  lias  departed, 


814  THE   KEY   OF   THE   STREET. 

and  being  apprehensive  myself  of  cross-examination  from  an  ap- 
proaching policeman  (not  knowing,  in  fact,  what  hideous  crime  sleep- 
m(f  in  St.  James'  Park  might  be)  I  also  withdraw,  feeling  very 
fai^ced  and  footsore — yet  slightly  refreshed  by  the  hour's  cap  I 
have  had.  I  pass  the  stands  where  the  cows  are  milked,  and  curds 
and  whey  dispensed,  on  summer  evenings  ;  and  enter  Charing  Cross 
by  the  long  Spring  Garden  passage. 

I  have  been  apprized  several  times  during  the  night  that  this  was 
a  market-morning  in  Covent  Garden.  I  have  seen  wagons,  sur- 
mounted by  enormous  mountains  of  vegetable-baskets,  wending  their 
way  through  the  silent  streets.  I  have  been  met  by  the  early  cos- 
termongers  in  their  donkey-carts,  and  chaffed  by  the  costerboys  on 
my  forlorn  appearance.  But  I  have  reserved  Covent  Garden  as  a 
bonne  bouche  —  a  wind-up  to  my  pilgrimage ;  for  I  have  heard  and 
read  how  fertile  is  the  market  in  question  in  subjects  of  amusement 
and  contemplation. 

I  confess  that  I  am  disappointed.  Covent  Garden  seems  to  me 
to  be  but  one  great  accumulation  of  cabbages.  I  am  pelted  with 
these  vegetables  as  they  are  thrown  from  the  lofty  summits  of  piled 
wagons  to  costermongers  standing  at  the  base.  I  stumble  among 
them  as  I  walk ;  in  short,  above,  below,  on  either  side,  cabbages 
preponderate. 

I  dare  say,  had  I  patience,  that  I  should  see  a  great  deal  more  ; 
but  I  am  dazed  with  cabbages,  and  jostled  to  and  fro,  and  "  danged  " 
dreadfully  by  rude  market-gardeners  —  so  I  eschew  the  market,  and 
creep  round  the  piazza. 

I  meet  my  vagrant  friend  of  the  Park  here,  who  is  having  a  cheap 
and  nutritious  breakfast  at  a  coffee  stall.  The  stall  itself  is  a  non- 
descript species  of  edifice  —  something  between  a  gypsy's  tent  and  a 
watchman's  box  ;  while,  to  carry  out  the  comparison,  as  it  were,  the 
lady  who  serves  out  the  coffee  very  much  resembles  a  gypsy  in  per- 
son, and  is  clad  in  a  decided  watchman's  coat.  The  aromatic  bever- 
Rcre  (if  I  may  be  allowed  to  give  that  name  to  the  compound  of  burnt 
beans,  roasted  horse-liver,  and  refuse  chicory,  of  which  the  "  coffee" 
is  composed)  is  poured,  boiling  hot,  from  a  very  cabalistic-looking 
cauldron,  into  a  whole  regiment  of  cups  and  saucers  standing  near; 
while,  for  more  solid  refection,  the  cups  are  flanked  by  plates  bear- 
ing massive  piles  of  thick  bread  and  butter,  and  an  equivocal  sub- 
stance called  "  cake."  Besides  my  friend,  the  vagrant,  two  coster- 
lads  are  partaking  of  the  hospitalities  of  the  cafe ;  and  a  huge  gar- 
dener, straddling  over  a  pile  of  potato  sacks,  hard  by,  has  provided 
himself  with  bread  and  butter  and  coffee,  from  the  same  establish- 


THE   KEY    OF    THE   STREET.  315 

ment,  and  is  consuming  them  with  such  avidity  that  the  tears  start 
from  his  eyes  at  every  gulp. 

I  have,  meanwhile,  remembered  the  existence  of  a  certain  four- 
penny-piece  in  my  pocket,  and  have  been  twice  or  thrice  tempted  to 
expend  it.  Yet,  on  reflection,  I  deem  it  better  to  purchase  with  it 
a  regular  breakfast,  and  to  repair  to  a  legitimate  coifee-shop.  The 
day  is,  by  this  time,  getting  rapidly  on,  and  something  of  the  roar 
of  London  begins  to  be  heard  in  earnest.  The  dull  murmur  of 
wheels  has  never  ceased,  indeed,  the  whole  night  through ;  but  now, 
laden  cabs  come  tearing  past  on  their  way  to  the  railway  station. 
The  night  policemen  gradually  disappear,  and  sleepy  potboys  grad- 
ually appear,  yawning  at  the  doors  of  public  houses  —  sleepy  wait- 
resses at  the  doors  of  coffee-houses  and  reading-rooms.  There  have 
been  both  public-houses  and  coffee-shops  open,  however,  the  whole 
night.  The  "  Mohawks'  Arms"  in  the  market  never  closes.  Young 
Lord  Stultus,  with  Captain  Asinus  of  the  Heavies,  endeavored  to 
turn  on  all  the  taps  there  at  four  o'clock  this  morning,  but,  at  the 
earnest  desire  of  Frume,  the  landlord,  desisted ;  and  subsequently 
subsided  into  a  chivalrous  offer  of  standing  glasses  of  "  Old  Tom  " 
all  round,  which  was  as  chivalrously  accepted.  As  the  "  all  round" 
comprised  some  thirty  ladies  and  gentlemen,  Frume  made  a  very 
good  thing  of  it ;  and,  like  a  prudent  tradesman,  as  he  is,  he  still 
further  acted  on  the  golden  opportunity,  by  giving  all  those  mem- 
bers of  the  company  (about  three  fourths)  who  were  drunk,  glasses 
of  water  instead  of  gin  ;  which  operation  contributed  to  discourage 
intemperance,  and  improve  his  own  exchequer  in  a  very  signal  and 
eflScacious  manner.  As  with  the  "  Mohawks'  Arms,"  so  with  the 
"  Turnip's  Head,"  the  great  market  gardeners'  house,  and  the  "  Pipe 
and  Horse  Collar,"  frequented  by  the  night  cabmen  —  to  say  noth- 
ing of  that  remarkably  snug  little  house  near  Drury  Lane,  "  The 
Blue  Bludgeon,"  which  is  well  known  to  be  the  rendezvous  of  the 
famous  Tom  Thug  and  his  gang,  whose  recent  achievements  in  the 
strangling  line  by  means  of  a  silk  handkerchief  and  a  life-preserver, 
used  tourniquet  fashion,  have  been  so  generally  admired  of  late.  I 
peep  into  some  of  these  noted  hostelries  as  I  saunter  about.  They 
begin  to  get  rather  quiet  and  demure  as  the  day  advances,  and  will 
be  till  midnight,  indeed,  very  dull  and  drowsy  pothouses,  as  times 
go.  They  don't  light  up  to  life,  and  jollity,  and  robbery,  and  violence 
before  the  small  hours. 

So  with  the  coffee-shops.  The  one  I  enter,  to  invest  my  four- 
pence  in  a  breakfast  of  coffee  and  bread-and-butter,  has  been  open 
all  night,  likewise ;  but  the  sole  occupants  now  are  a  dirty  waiter, 
in  a   pitiable   state  of  drowsiness,  and   half-a-dozen   of  homeless 


316  THE   KEY   OF   THE   STREET. 

wretches  who  -have  earned  the  privilege  of  sitting  down  at  the  filthy 
tables  bj  the  purchase  of  a  cup  of  coffee,  and,  with  their  heads  on 
their  hands,  are  snatching  furtive  naps,  cut  short  —  too  short,  alas ! 

—  by  the  pokes  and  "  Wake  up,  there  !  "  of  the  drowsy  waiter.  It 
is  apparently  his  "  consigne  "  to  allow  no  sleeping. 

I  sit  down  here,  and  endeavor  to  keep  myself  awake  over  the 
columns  of  the  "Sun"  newspaper  of  last  Tuesday  week  —  unsuc- 
^ssfully,  however.  I  am  so  jaded  and  weary,  so  dog-tired  and 
utterly  worn  out,  that  I  fall  off  again  to  sleep ;  and  whether  it  is 
that  the  drowsy  waiter  has  gone  to  sleep  too,  or  that  the  expenditure 
of  fourpence  secures  exemption  for  me,  I  am  allowed  to  slumber. 

I  dream  this  time.  A  dreadful  vision  it  is,  of  bugs,  and  cab- 
bages, and  tramping  soldiers,  and  anon  of  the  fire  at  the  pickle-shop. 
As  I  wake,  and  find,  to  my  great  joy,  that  it  is  ten  minutes  past 
eight  o'clock,  a  ragged  little  news-boy  brings  in  a  damp  copy  of  the 
"  Times,"  and  I  see  half  a  column  in  that  journal  headed  "  Dreadful 
Conflagration  in  Soho." 

Were  I  not  so  tired,  I  should  moralize  over  this,  no  doubt ;  but 
there  are  now  but  two  things  in  my  mind  —  two  things  in  the  world 
for  me  —  home  and  bed.     Eight  o'clock  restores  these  both  to  me 

—  so  cruelly  deprived  of  them  for  so  long  a  time.  So,  just  as  Lon- 
don —  worli  away,  steady-going  London  —  begins  to  bestir  itself,  I 
hurry  across  the  Strand,  cross  the  shadow  of  the  first  omnibus  going 
towards  the  Bank ;  and,  as  I  sink  between  the  sheets  of  my  bed, 
resign  the  key  of  the  street  into  the  hands  of  its  proper  custodian, 
whoever  he  may  be  —  and,  whoever  he  may  be,  I  don't  envy  him. 


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OR  WOMAN'S  MISSIQN. 

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HISTORY    OF 

DEMOCRACY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

By  the  Author  of  "  The  Kepublic  of  the  United  States,"  &e. 

This  irriportant  work  is  now  in  press,  the  first  volume  of  which  will 

be  issued  early  in  the  year  of  1856. 

Letten  in  respect  to  the  character  and  objects  of  this  work  have  been  received 
from  the  late  Judge  Woodbury,  Hon.  George  M.  Dallas,  Hon.  James  Buchanan, 
Hon.  William  L.  JNlarcy,  Hon.  Robert  J.  Walker,  Hon.  Samuel  Houston,  Hon. 
Isaac  Toucey,  Hon.  Jefferson  Davis,  Hon.  Thomas  H.  Seymour,  Hon.  R.  J.  Inger- 
soll,  Hon.  Edmund  Burke,  Hon.  B.  F.  Hallett,  Hon.  Lewis  Cass,  Hon.  Thomas  W. 
Dorr,  etc. 


A  NEW   PICTORIAL 

HISTORY  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

BY    JOHN    FSOST. 

"We  hesitate  not  to  say  tliat  this  is  the  best  Pictorial  History  of  the 
United  States  to  be  found  in  the  wide  world. 

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especially  of  our  adopted  citizens,  from  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  on  the 
West,  to  that  of  the  extreme  Atlantic,  on  the  East.  No  man  or  woman 
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PIONEER  HEROES  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD, 

Comprising  the  Lives  of  the  most  famous  Discoverers,  Explorers,  and 
Coiujuerors  of  North  and  South  Amcric:'  ;  an  Account  of  the 
Fcui'dation  of  Colonies  and  the  Settlement  of  States  and  Proviiues  ; 
the  History  of  the  Suft'trings  and  PrivatiOiis  of  the  E;aiy  Settlers, 
and  their  Wars  with  the  Niiti\e  Irihabitant.^  ;  a  Lescriptimi  of  the 
uidst  important  Expeditious  of  Suivey  ;  ai:d  a  View  of  the  gradual 
Extension  of  Discovery  and  Civilization  in  the  Western  Hemi- 
si-liere. 

EY    EENRY    HQ-WAED    BEOWNELL,    A.M. 

O'^r  hearts!  are  closely  linked  to  the  stirring:  deeds  of  our  pioneer  fathers,  and 
in  tlii'--  volume  is  found  the  most  reliable  and  graphic  account  of  their  unexampled 
achievements  and  thrilling  adventures  ever  written. 

Q)=: @ 


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